Tainted Love
by Emono
Summary: Greg’s in trouble, and Warrick has to come to term with some things. H/C, Slash, M/M, abuse, dark character
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tainted Love (1/12)  
Author: Emono  
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas  
Rating: NC-16  
Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)  
Summary: Greg's in trouble, and Warrick has to come to term with some things.  
Beta: gil_follower  
Warnings: Abuse, H/C, naughty thoughts, slight Warrick-OOC  
Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts  
Word Count: 2987

Author's Note:  
I realized that this pairing doesn't get enough love. I've been toying with it for awhile, and I really just needed to flex my literature 'Warrick' muscle a bit…I like writing him in fics. He's a very defining character, what with his addictions and that fact that he's built like a tree. Commodore isn't mine, he's actually a hockey player on the Columbus Blue Jackets. Also, I know this song doesn't quite fit, but maybe it'll make sense by the end of the story.

_*Sometimes I feel I've got to  
__Run away I've got to  
__Get away  
__From the pain that you drive into the heart of me*_

Warrick was sure he was never meant to hear it, but he did and that was all that mattered. He was delivering some lifted prints to Mandy, mentally going over a list of groceries he had to pick up before going home. He smiled faintly as he passed the DNA lab, the music coming from the lab was softer than normal but no less heavy. Marilynn Manson, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Why the hell isn't it ready?!"

The shout was coming from inside the lab, it made the CSI stop and back up to peer through the door. There was Brass's new personal lap dog, 'Commodore' they called him. His hair was heavy ginger, cut roughly to match the scruff on his cheeks. He wore his business suit, face contorted in rage. Green eyes smoldered, his bleached white teeth nearly fangs as he bared them at the trembling lab tech.

Greg was all but climbing up the wall to get away from the man, all wide/watery eyes and scared. He looked quite vulnerable; pale, nearly shaking in his lab coat, hands gloved up. A poor scientist, being reamed on his work. Or lack there of, it seemed.

"Detective Commodore, _sir_" Greg was trying to seem respectful, but he was obviously upset and vaguely annoyed "I'm _trying_, but I'm backlogged right now-"

"I don't _care_!" Commodore barked, advancing slightly and causing the lab tech to flinch "This is on _rush_, Sanders."

"No offense, _sir_" Greg's color returned, a spark of defiance in his eyes "But you haven't been around long if you haven't realized that _everything_ here is on rush."

Commodore flushed with faux-righteous fury, "My evidence is top priority, Sanders, it gets run _first_."

"No" Greg stood up straighter, hands balled into fists at his side "I don't care who _you_ think you are, but Brass knows how the deal. My CSI's come first and foremost, Detective Commodore."

Warrick felt a swell of pride at those words, Greg was officially part of the team. Loyal to the lab, to the real CSI's, the cops came second. It was true, Brass knew how evidence was run, who's went first and who's rush mattered. Actually, to think about it, Brass possibly sent Commodore on this mission on purpose. Unforeseen consequences…

But Commodore didn't take this well, and he stepped closer to the slighter man. Warrick wasn't going to just stand by and watch the boy get all but assaulted for loyalty, so he slipped into the lab and clasped a hand on the red head's shoulder.

"That's enough" Warrick stated lowly "You made your point, man."

Commodore glanced at the dark hand on his shoulder, "Brown, I suggest you back off."

"Then _I_ suggest _you_ back off my lab tech" Warrick didn't give a second thought to his words, Greg needed someone to take charge right now.

Commodore turned on him with a nasty look, "_Your_ lab tech?"

"Yeah" Warrick's smirk was his patented '_I could knock out your lights right now_' accompanied with a flex of his arms "You got something to say?"

Commodore's eyes flickered to the man's strong arms, mentally recalling his own lanky form, "…no."

"Good" Warrick wrapped insistent fingers around the man's upper arm, leading him out of the lab "All evidence will be processed in due time, Detective Commodore. Greg will call you when he has your evidence, bye."

Warrick shut the lab door behind the man, scowling before turning back to the lab tech. Greg regained his composure, half-glaring at the taller man and cocking his hips in faux-angry pose.

"You shouldn't have done that" Greg looked like himself again, but his voice was uncharacteristically soft "I can take care of _myself_, I was handling it.""You were scared" Warrick pointed out, watching as the brunette ducked his head and kept his eyes locked on the floor. The taller man came closer, reaching out and seizing the boy's chin in the curl of his fingers. Liquid chocolate eyes met his, shame in them from appearing so weak. "But I understand, Greggo…you've got nerves around strangers. Especially strangers who are too big for their gun holsters. You were nervous with Grissom for awhile, if I remember right. But you've got to learn to stand up for yourself a bit more against bullies, Greggo….not just retreat into yourself, ok?"

Greg flashed him a beautiful smile, "I'll try."

"I know you will" Warrick took step back, taking in that sight and wishing briefly he could put that smile on the young man's face more often "You got my results for me?"

Greg snatched a paper out of his 'done' box, brandishing it with a slight flush, "I did it first."

Warrick accepted it, looking it over briefly to confirm his theory, "Thanks, G.""No big deal, it's what I do" Greg sounded like himself, giving that patented '_I know I'm good_' grin.

Warrick turned to leave, and the air shifted again.

"Warrick?" Greg sounded timid again. The older man turned, wondering briefly how Sanders could go from happy-go-luck to serious in under a minute like that.

"What is it, G?"

"Thanks for that, for defending me" still soft spoken, like he was afraid to admit he had needed held "I don't get that a lot, and I appreciate it."

"You just tell me if anyone screw with you like that again" Warrick grinned at the thought of pounding someone's face into the pavement for Sanders "I'll scare 'em straight, Greggo, no sweat."

Greg took that to heart, nodding eagerly.

»*»

**Two Days Later**

The sun had set on Las Vegas, but that only gave the city an excuse to light up. There, in a darker part of the city, is where the story continues. In an apartment too big for one person, a lone occupant, and a piano that looked like it had seen better days.

Warrick Brown sat on the narrow bench, a half-finished beer staining the polished surface on the piano before him. His fingers glided over the keys, a quick song resonating from the chords to vibrate the very air in the apartment. Sometimes it would slow, catch a river flow, smooth out. But eventually it would pick up again, at the whim of it's master.

Plus, it was his night off.

Warrick didn't play nearly as often as he liked, or for the reasons that he liked. He usually only sat and played at length when he needed time to think. Tonight's topic was love, relationships, and why the hell he got himself into situations that he knew for a fact were dangerous?

The fresh pang of divorce was gone after three months, and he was getting back his bachelor vibe. Thirty-four and kicking, baby. But now, after being burned by his woman, he was looking for something different. Too bad for everyone else, he was looking in one specific direction at one unique person. Lately, his heart was skipping around a certain lab tech and his dick only stiffened at the thought of wide chocolate eyes and dirty blonde spikes twisted in his fingers…pink lips wrapped around his-

"No!" Warrick growled lowly, hitting a sour note as he glared at his stirring cock "Didn't I tell you to quit that? Greg's a kid…ok, so he's only about six years young than me…but _still_. He listens to Manson, he looks like he's _jailbait_, he surfs, and he's a spazz. Do we really need that?"

Images popped into his mind uninvited. Smooth, pale skin beneath his fingertips, beneath his lips and tongue, lean thighs parting for him like water…

His hard-on strained insistently against the fabric of his sweatpants and boxers…it knew what it wanted.

"Apparently so" Warrick gave a humorless laugh, fingers picking up the "Things are going to be difficult soon, guh…"

A knock startled him, the music died away and he was left in a state of emptiness people often find themselves in when their thoughts abandon them too suddenly. It wasn't until the second knock that he realized someone was at his door. Brow creased, Warrick stood from the narrow bench and made his way to the door. He paused in front of the entrance, noting the soft sounds on the other side.

It sounded like…fingertips…

Warrick opened the door, gaping at the sight presented to him.

It was Greg (if this shocked you, raise your hand to be smacked), but not like he had ever seen the boy before. He was wrapped up in a large denim jacket, hugging it to himself protectively. His hair wasn't gelled to the max, but laid softly and more naturally against his temples and forehead. But it was mussed, like it had been run through with unsteady fingers. One hand was stuffed deep into the pocket of his jacket, the other raised with his palm flat from where it had rested on the door (just the ends of his fingers were exposed, the denim cuff kissing his knuckles.) But his face…Warrick immediately winced, something akin to lead dropping in his stomach.

Those normally warm sable eyes were bloodshot, tears staining paths down his flushed cheeks. His lips were swollen, a slight split in the corner of his mouth, they were flushed as well. Bright like a beacon on a beach was a bruise, nearly purple along the left line of his jaw.

"Hey" Warrick was the first to speak, stunned by how vulnerable the young man looked.

"Hey" Greg sighed, attempting to smile "I…I didn't wake you, did I?"

Warrick shook his head slowly, trying to process the situation.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come" Greg took the man's silence the wrong way, stuffing his other hand into his coat "I shouldn't just assume-"

"Get in here, Greggo" Warrick cut him off affectionately, stepping aside to give the other room "It's a mess, but you're welcome to it."

Greg melted in relief, his small smile genuine as he eased past the man. Warrick shut the door, taking notice of how the brunette took a hand out of his coat long enough to tug his collar farther up along his neck.

"Greg, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell" Warrick pointed out "Did something happen?"

"Just a little thing" Greg lied, licking his lips absently "I was wondering…if I could hang out here for a little bit, give him some time to cool off."

Something possessive stirred in the older man's belly, "Who did you fight with?"

Greg shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he should reveal this info. But Warrick was his _friend_, right? He wasn't going to think any less of him, would he?

"My boyfriend."

"What?" Warrick snapped, anger boiling over "He _hit_ you? Greg, you can't stand for this! Are you going to leave him? Did you at _least_ hit him back?"

Greg only responded with a sullen shake of his head. Warrick strode over, closing the distance between them. He placed a broad hand on the boy's cheek, locking their eyes and searching those dark depths.

"Greg…" Warrick implored, begging it not to be true "This isn't the first time, is it? He's hit you before?"

"I just…keep making him so angry" Greg's voice cracked with emotion, fresh tears spilling "Everything I say is _wrong_, and nothing I do is good enough…"

//He hits me because I'm not you.//

Warrick's hand trailed down the brunette's cheek, to his neck. Greg flinched at the contact, and then the CSI just _knew_ it was worse than what he could see.

"It's more than just hitting" Warrick cursed how saddened he sounded "Let me see them."

"You'll look at me differently" Greg accused, but there was no conviction in his eyes "You'll take one look at me and think I'm…you'll think I'm a harlot or worse."

"Never" Warrick's voice _did_ hold strength, but the brush of his knuckles along the line of the lab tech's neck was gentle "Let me see what that bastard did to you."

Greg knew he shouldn't, that his supposed _lover_ would be pissed if he ever showed anyone his marks. But Warrick only wanted to help, he could see it in those bottomless eyes. He bit the bullet, fisting his hands in his lapel and bracing himself for the look he was going to get. Now or never, do it fast…like a band-aid. With a sharp inhale, he stripped the jacket off his shoulders and let it pool at his feet. Shoes, socks. His threadbare Black Sabbath shirt came next, revealing all his marks.

Warrick shuddered at the sight, a mixture of rage and sympathy jolting all of his nerves. Poor Greg, poor boy…all those marks. Running a critical eye over his thin form (too thin, did this boy ever eat?) he took a mental list of each injury. There, on the back of his neck, a near bloody bite. His ribs looked a bit bruised, discolored on his right side. A solid hand-shaped bruise was fading on his upper arm, someone had grabbed him and shook him hard. Discoloration circled each wrist, thin and raw, from handcuffs. More vicious teeth marks along his torso, fingerprint shaped bruises peeking out of the waistband of his jeans.

The jeans were removed, fingerprint bruises became a hand impression on his left hip. Warrick circled the younger man, eyeing the bruise from the back.

"I'm sorry Greg" Warrick whispered, though he didn't know why he was apologizing. He reached out, laying his palm gently along the bruise and letting his hand settle over it. Greg shivered at the touch, eyes fluttering shut. The darker man's hand was bigger than the one who left the imprint, it gave him a heady rush of power.

"You're not going back to him" Warrick stated, letting his chest brush the lab tech's shoulder blade.

Greg ducked his head, relishing what little contact he could get, "I can't leave him-"

"Tonight you are, I can't stand the thought of you back there" Warrick turned the brunette around, smiling warmly at him "Take my bed tonight…at least I know you're safe here."Greg blushed at the thought, "Warrick, I couldn't take your bed."

"You can and will" Warrick took his hand, gently leading him back into his bedroom. He pushed up the covers, then managed to squirm a mildly protesting lab tech under them and laid him down. "Sh-sh, Greg. Just rest tonight, you need it. I'll wake you up in time for work, don't worry. He won't hurt you here."

Warrick traced his fingertips over the boy's forehead, then turned to leave. A strong hand gripped his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Wait" Greg's voice was quick, desperate "Can you…can you stay with me?"

When Warrick hesitated too long, the brunette released his grip and let tears fill his eyes.

"I'm asking too much" his voice was barely audible now, then he murmured something about nightmares.

"Of course I'll stay with you, G" Warrick pulled back the covers, settling himself next to the boy "My bed's way more comfortable than the couch."

Greg scooted away from him, face twisted in thought. He didn't yet know his place…if Warrick was in the same bed, then would he want him on the other side or-?

"Come 'ere" Warrick drawled, wrapping a strong arm around the thin waist and dragging the other close to him "I can't stop the nightmares from way over there, can I?"

Greg flushed darkly, " 'Spose not."

"Here" Warrick turned him on his other side, spooning behind him and keeping his arm around his torso (he was very mindful of his injuries) "Just concentrate on the feeling, you'll be fine."

Greg nodded drowsily, wiggling back until they touched from thigh to shoulders, "Thank you, 'Rick."

Greg soon slipped off to sleep, dreams no longer filled with violence…but of warm skin and soft sheets.

"You don't even know what you do to me, Greg" Warrick whispered, nuzzling brunette spikes "If you asked for this whole damn apartment, I'd give it to you. You've got me so whipped, and…I think I'm falling in love with you. Sucks, right? Oh G…you smell so good…"

Warrick melted into the other, all anxieties fading away. Greg was in his bed, in his arms, content and sleeping. Nothing like his hot dreams or even his fluffy fantasies, but it satisfied him. Maybe he had a few good courting moves left in him, maybe he could snatch up this eclectic beauty for his own?

Warrick kissed the shell of his ear, "God help the man that hurt you, Greg…cause if I ever meet him, I swear I won't be able to hold myself back with the thought that he hurt you in my head. No one's going to hurt you. As soon as I find out who he is…_I'll kill him_."

With that pleasant thought, he drifted off to sleep.

_**TBC**_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Tainted Love (2/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)

Summary: Greg thinks Warrick could never love him, and his abusive boyfriend is revealed. Meantime, Warrick tries to get help for Greg.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: Rape, non-con, angst, H/C, blooming love, dark character

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 2448

Author's Note:

I actually came up with a plot, cause my plot-bunny had a seizure right after part one. I was just thinking, and then suddenly it hit me…PLOT TWIST!!! Now I know the person I chose would never do something like this, but he was my only choice.

Oh, and sorry about the random flashback, but I couldn't fit it anywhere else…and I love locker rooms.

_***The love we share**_

_**Seems to go nowhere**_

_**And I've lost my light**_

_**For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night***_

**~Morning~**

**~6:42 A.M.~**

Greg awoke in comfort, feeling safe and warm for the first time in four months. four months of shadows and pain, of coming home in fear and wandering what kind of mood his lover was in. Was he drunk? Had someone pissed him off at work? Or worse…the brunette shuddered at the thought, his lover would be frisky and he would end up with bruises of a different sort.

Greg pushed down the covers, finding the man's arm still laying over his waist. Warrick's head was cradled in his shoulder, fingers splayed on the other's stomach. The lab tech was flat on his back, they were pressed close and sharing body heat. The older man mumbled something against his skin, stirring slightly before slipping into deep sleep again.

"Thank you" Greg whispered, reaching up and running his fingers through coarse hair. He knew he couldn't stay here any longer, he knew his lover was pissed for sure by now. Two hours till he had to go to work, maybe he wouldn't hurt him too badly for running away?

"I..I love you…" he admitted, placing a kiss on the man's forehead before easing out from under him. Greg crept into the living room, slipping on his clothes and recalling the events of the night before. Warrick had been so kind to him, comforting him, keeping away the nightmares. What an amazing night…would he ever get a repeat of it?

With a last longing look at the bedroom, he slipped out of the apartment.

»*»

Greg opened his apartment door with his key, hoping beyond hope that his boyfriend wasn't there. He couldn't keep the dumb smile off his face, all but humming as he hung up his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. He had gotten away with it! He had spent a warm night with the love of his life, and he didn't get caught!

"Where the hell have you been?"

Greg choked, freezing in place as he went bug-eyed. He turned on his heels, finding his boyfriend downing coffee by the couch. He tried to speak, but his mouth had gone dry and his lips went numb. Every mar on his body throbbed, reminding him what he was in for. His boyfriend looked pissed, jaw set and hands clutching his cup so hard his knuckles were white.

"I-I went out" Greg managed to stutter out "Visited a friend, got something to eat. I l-lost track of time."

"Fuckin' around will do that" the man snarled, pacing over to the slighter man and grabbing a fistful of brunette hair. Greg cried out, knees jerking and threatening to give way. "Brainless trollop…how much did your _friend_ pay you?"

"I would never, you know I wouldn't" Greg pleaded, the hold on his scalp painful enough to bring tears to his eyes "Please don't, not again."

"Already beggin' like a bitch" the man's handsome features were twisted in rage, and he pulled the lab tech closer to place a harsh bite at the base of his neck. The lab tech knew better than to jerk away, that would only get him hit again. "You're mine Sanders, you hear that? Mine until I'm done with you, until I get what I want. You hear me, boy?"

Tears slipped down pale cheeks, "…yes…"

"Good, now make it up to me" his boyfriend shoved him down on his knees. Greg shook his head weakly, softly requesting a reprieve from the task. An open palm struck him upside the temple (no fresh marks before work), knocking him silly for a moment. He blinked dully, harsh fingers jagging through his hair and holding him in place.

With a heavy heart, Greg reached up and unzipped the man's pants.

»*»

Warrick raided his locker, searching for his gun oil. He needed to clean his gun before he went out into the field, and Grissom already had a new case for him to take in his office. There was a heavy weight on his shoulders, a shadow across his face. He was worried about Greg and that damn abusive boyfriend of his. The thought was enough for him to slam his locker a little harder than necessary, for he just had to open it up again. As he fiddled with the lock, he wondered why Greg had left this morning. He had actually looked forward to waking up in the boy's arms. Pressed close, chest-to-chest, and he would even like to think he would have worked up enough nerve to buss their lips. Nothing demanding, just a sweet nothing that would let Greg know that the offer was there…if he wanted it.

//Yeah, _right_// Warrick scoffed //Keep dreamin', man.//

"Warrick" his name drawled in that familiar accent, he looked up with a smile to see Nick there brandishing the gun oil "You left this out last time, thought you'd need it."

"Always got my back, don't you Nicky?" Warrick teased, accepting the vial and settling down to clean his gun. He began to take it apart, laying the metal pieces on one side of the bench while the Southerner settled on the other side of him. Nick watched, quiet, as the darker man cleaned out the barrel and ran a swab through it.

Warrick looked over briefly, "You like Greg, don't you Nicky?"

"Greggo?" Nicky teased, his smile easy "I like 'im fine."

"Good" Warrick carefully surveyed the room, concluding that they were alone "Can we discuss something private? Just between _us_."

Nick's eyes lit up, "Of course, 'Rick, you know we can."

The man looked around one last time, slowly putting his gun back together, "I think our lab tech's in trouble, Nicky. He's gotten more submissive lately, he's losing his fire."

Nick's eyes flickered up from where they had trailed down to the plunging neckline of the man's maroon shirt, but the other didn't notice, "If Greg's got problems, we should let him work it out on his own. He's a smart kid, he'll figure it out."

"I don't think he can" Warrick chewed his lower lip "You should have seen him last night, he came to my door crying and hell-beat."Something flashed in the Southerner's eyes, "He came to you apartment?"

"Yeah" the other brushed it off "I couldn't turn him away, I let him stay the night. I saw those marks, Nicky…what kind of bastard would hurt that sweet kid?"

"I dunno, 'Rick" Nick stood, hands clenched into fists as his side "Tell me, if you find out who it is, kay? We'll go out and get him together."

"I knew you'd be just as angry" Warrick smiled at his best friend, standing as well and placing a hand on the Southerner's shoulder "Greg's part of our team, right? If he works hard enough, he'll be a field agent soon, and then he'll really be part of the family."

"Right" Nick nodded, leaning into the touch "No one hurts one of our own, we gotta stand together. If we don't, who else will defend us?"

"I knew you felt the same" Warrick couldn't help but grin and pull the man into a hug, feeling better now that he knew he had back-up "Thanks, Nick."

Nick leaned into the touch, heart picking up, "No problem, 'Rick."

»*»

Greg was breaking for lunch. He was heading down the hall, briefly passing and doors without a second thought. He was just passing one of the smaller interrogation rooms when it happened, a strong hand shot out and seized him by the collar of his shirt. He gave a yelp, but no one could have heard him since the heavy door was shut and locked behind him. He was thrown at the table in the middle of the room, but he caught himself on the edge with his palms. The bare bulb cast the room in a horror-movie-esq glow, and he knew no one was behind that large two way mirror…no one to save him.

Greg turned, finding his angry-eyed and breathing hard.

"Not here, Nick, _please_."

"You told him" Nick growled out, sounding upset and infuriated "You showed _Warrick_."

"He doesn't know" Greg tried to fix what he had done, lower back pressed to the tables edge "It was my mistake, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to-"

Nick pounced on him, a solid hand wrapping around his throat and slamming him into the wall. Greg choked, one of his hands wrapped around the thick wrist…but he wasn't strong enough.

"You make me do this" Nick hissed, looking straight into his _lover's_ eyes "Out of everyone you could've have gone to, you go to _Warrick_?! Oh, he's so worried about you…I should give him something to worry about!"

Nick increased the pressure of his hand, the lab tech started gasping desperately.

"What did you do to get in his bed?" the Southerner inquired cruelly, a smirk twisting his lips "Did you show up at this door all teary-eyed, pouting, sniffling and _begging_ to come in? Feed him some cheap line, then strip to show him all the pretty marks I left on you? I bet you threw yourself at him like a cat in heat, all but _dragging_ him into bed."

"Nicky, stop" Greg pleaded breathlessly, getting anxious "I don't want this anymore-"

"It doesn't matter what you want!" Nick threw the boy at the table, but Greg didn't catch himself as gracefully this time. The CSI pinned him there, fisting his hand in his hair and pulling his head back roughly.

Greg whimpered when he realized he couldn't move, "No-"

"This is about what _I_ want, Greggo" Nick taunted, eyeing the exposed line of neck that already held his mark "The only reason I started fucking you was to keep you _away_ from Warrick. He's _mine_, at least…he will be. I'm the one he's going to fall in love with, and you'll be stuck a _whore_."

Greg's eyes welled up at the words, a heavy compression on his heart.

The depression set in so badly that he didn't notice the hands on the waistband on his pants.

**~Back-Flash~**

**~Two Months Ago~**

Warrick trudged into the locker room after lunch, in a relatively good mood and showing the rest of his Dr. Pepper. He tossed the can in the trash, then headed to his locker to retrieve his gun. He made it to the metal door soon enough, fiddling with the knob and rolling out his combination.

"Hey 'Rick."

Warrick turned at this, smiling when his eyes fell on Stokes leaning against his own locker. The country boy was looking good today, those dark denim jeans framed his strong legs nicely and that dark green t-shirt with an imprint of Texas over the left pec clung perfectly. Warrick let himself admire his best friend, then met those fathomless eyes.

"Nicky" Warrick retrieved his gun and strapped it to his hip.

"How's bachelor life treating you?" Nick quirked a brow knowingly.

"Well enough" the taller man replied, shrugging off-handedly.

"What you need, 'Rick, is familiarity" Nick advanced slowly, voice collected and calm "Someone you're comfortable with, someone who knows what you do and why you do it. You can't just be out with _anyone_, 'Rick, you need someone specific."

Warrick cocked his head as the Southern boy stepped up to him, "You think you now what I need, Nicky?"

"Of course" Nick smirked, wrapping his arms loosely around his best friend's neck "You need me."

Warrick closed his eyes briefly, soaking in the warmth from the other. He hadn't felt anyone so close to him since before he was divorced from Tina, and even then…

Warrick sighed, "Maybe I do, Nick."

A pathetic sound echoed behind him, Warrick swiveled his head to find Greg standing in the doorway. The lab tech was clutching a folder, lower lip trembling dangerously before he clamped white teeth on it. He tore his eyes away like the sight burned him, holding up his results.

"Warrick…" Greg cleared his throat, eyes downcast "I've got all your results back."

"Good" Warrick gently eased his best friend's arms from his shoulders "Sorry, Nicky."Warrick felt like a complete jackass as he walked over to the brunette, easing the folder from his hands. His heart broke when those dark eyes flickered up at him, mouth trying to imitate a smile and failing.

Greg didn't see the longing look as he left in a hurry, scolding himself not to cry.

**~Back to Present~**

A half-hour later, no one noticed a self-satisfied Nick strolling out of the interrogation room. He went to the front desk, signed out for his case, grabbed his kit waiting for him there, then left to the address Grissom had left on a sticky note to his kit. A few minutes went by, the nice lady at the front desk went through two articles by the time the interrogation room door opened again. Greg stumbled out, red eyed and limping.

Greg caught a glance of himself in the glass walls, stopping dead in his tracks. He was thinner, he made a mental note to eat a big dinner tonight. He was paler too, dark circles under his horribly blood shot eyes. He ran his fingertips over his hair, vainly trying to get it back into spikes.

//What would your mom say if she saw what you've become?// Greg scolded himself, fingers now trying to fix his clothes //Letting a man abuse and fuck you just because another man doesn't love you…//

Greg sighed through his swollen lips, ribs aching, "Som man reder sa ligger man."

_One must lie in the bed one has made._

//How did it come to this?//

_**TBC**_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Tainted Love (3/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)

Summary: Nicky's feeling frisky, Greg's brokenhearted, Archie is a God-send, and Warrick isn't sure whether to go postal on the entire lab or just hide Greg away.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: Rape, non-con, angst, H/C, blooming love, dark character

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 3604

Author Note:

Did you really think Nick was going to get away with that? In the lab? He's lucky Conrad didn't walk in on them, it was pretty risky on his part. It's not my fault, I just convey the story, cause when I started this Nick was going to be a pillar of strength for the couple and the boyfriend was going to get killed by Warrick or something. So, yeah, I lost an OC because Nicky wouldn't shut the hell up *slaps Nick NCIS style* PS: I'm desperately trying to remember they work the night shift, so bare with me if something happens at night or in the day that wouldn't happen.

_***Once I ran to you (I ran)**_

_**Now I'll run from you**_

_**This tainted love you've given**_

_**I give you all a boy could give you***_

**~Next Day~**

**~11;45PM~**

Warrick came in from the field, scrubbing his eyes with one hand as the other clutched a brown bag full of evidence. Going through the motions, he dropped some lifts off to Mandy with a wink for processing then a sample of their victim's blood off with Henry for drug testing. Last stop, the A/V lab.

Archie looked downright sullen, leaning back in his chair and touching his mouth. His eyes were locked on the VHS tape laying on the table before him, innocent and unmarked. Warrick ambled over, setting two tapes of phone taps on the table. The lab tech wasn't startled, simply glanced up with tears in his eyes.

"Did…did something happen, Archie?"

"Something terrible" Archie rasped, raw emotion in his voice "There's something you need to see."

Warrick's brow creased, "Then show me."

"I can't" dark eyes pleaded with him to understand "Not until the others…"

Johnson trailed off, eyes falling on the doorway. Warrick turned to watch Catherine, Grissom, and Brass enter.

"This better be good" Brass huffed.

Archie paled as he put the tape in the VCR by his desk, "It isn't. I'm going to warn you, this will be one of the most disturbing videos you will ever watch. I'm not ashamed, I became ill after I accessed it."

Warrick's morbid curiosity grew, but the others just nodded.

"This happened around 1:00AM yesterday" Archie rattled off, pushing play "What you're seeing is Interrogation Room C, the one we don't normally use. I managed to get audio, but that only made it worse. Brace yourselves."

The feed ran for a few moments undisturbed, but that didn't last long. It was the interrogation room, unsecured and empty. Then someone snuck in, his back to the camera. He waited impatiently, fidgeting and grunting every minute or so. But just as Warrick was about to ask questions, the man opened the door and pulled someone else inside. The new man stumbled into the table, bracing himself with his palms and keeping his head low. Just as the other locked and secured the door, the slighter man on screen looked up.

Greg.

"_Not here, Nick, please"_ Greg begged, turning to face the other. It was indeed Nick standing there, and the Southern boy was angrier than a bull who just got spurred (or some other charming Southern euphuism.)

"_You told him" _Nick was growling _"You told Warrick."_

"_He doesn't know"_ Greg visibly shrunk into the table _"It was my mistake, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to-"_

Nick lunged, grabbing the younger man by the throat and pinning him against the wall. The lab tech all but thrashed once, then froze in fear.

"_You make me do this" _Nick had never sounded more deranged_ "Out of everyone you could've have gone to, you go to Warrick?! Oh, he's so worried about you…I should give him something to worry about!"_

Warrick wasn't sure if he was more angry or confused, but Grissom put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to keep watching as Greg started gasping for breath.

"_What did you do to get in his bed?" _Nick's words were low, but audible, and every word fueled Warrick's rage _"Did you show up at this door all teary-eyed, pouting, sniffling and begging to come in? Feed him some cheap line, then strip to show him all the pretty marks I left on you? I bet you threw yourself at him like a cat in heat, all but dragging him into bed."_

"Bastard" Warrick seethed, he couldn't believe his _best_ _friend_ would reduce his sweet comfort to something dirty like this.

"_Nicky, stop"_ Greg was begging now _"I don't want this anymore-"_

"_It doesn't matter what you want!"_ Nick grew enraged, throwing the brunette at the table again. Greg couldn't catch himself completely this time, the strong Southerner treating him like a rag doll. Nick seized a fist-full of that soft hair Warrick couldn't get enough of the night they spent together, yanking back the boy's head and displaying his neck to the camera.

Greg didn't have much fight left in him by the sound of his voice, _"No-"_

"_This is about what I want, Greggo, The only reason I started fucking you was to keep you away from Warrick. He's mine, at least…he will be. I'm the one he's going to fall in love with, and you'll be stuck a whore."_

Nick's confession only seemed to piss Warrick off further. Greg seemed to be stunned into silence, tears welling in his eyes only to spill down his cheeks. The sight pulled at Warrick's heartstrings, to see the man he cared so much about reduced to nothing but a piece of meat.

"That can't be our Nick" Catherine protested weakly "He would never-"

"He gets worse" Archie cut her off, eyes downcast.

Nick released the boy's head, it went limp with the rest of him. The CSI put his hands at the waistband of the other's pants, working the denim off his hips. Greg seemed to come to life, he spun and slapped Nick as hard as he could (it looks like a last-ditch attempt to get the man to see reason.) This didn't stop the Southerner, he seized Greg by the shoulders and rammed his knee into his stomach. The lab tech made a pathetic sound, doubling over into the man's body and losing his breath.

"_You make me hurt you"_ Nick spun the boy around, forcing him over the table _"If you'd just learn to take it and stay away from Warrick, we wouldn't have to do this."_

"_No…Nick…" _Greg was trying like anything to get away, but he was just too weak with all the bruises and the other's strength. Warrick knew the lab tech was weakened, he had felt how thin he was beneath his hands and how easy it was to coax him physically.

Nick fuckin' _laughed_, it was cruel and vicious. He yanked the boy's pants down to his knees, keeping him pinned flat with the palm of his hand as the other popped open his own jeans.

"_NO!"_ Greg tried to get up again, but the hand moved from the middle of his back to his hair again. Nick seized a fistful, then slammed the boy's head hard. Greg choked, the blow to his temple knocking him stupid. The Southerner held his hips still with his free hand, then thrusted right in without any prep or warning. Greg cried out weakly at the pain, fresh tears landing on the metal of the table.

Warrick couldn't look away, fists clenched so tight his nails were cutting crescent moons into his palms. He was so angry he was shaking all over, breath quickening. It was all he could do not to drop kick the TV set right off the table, but he had to see it all played out. He had to see what Nick had been doing to his Greg…yeah, _his_ Greg! Anyone got a problem with it? Didn't think so!

"_If you scream, I'll bust open your mouth"_ Nick threatened throatily, and they all watched as Greg pressed his lips tight together and obeyed. Warrick tried to block it out, it wasn't helping. He watched the rest in silence, taking note of Nick's rough treatment and Greg's pained whimpers. Then the Southerner's hips stuttered and he grunted, they knew then that he was done.

Greg was still flush against the table, breathing labored and tears turned cold. Nick pulled out and he winced, the older man stepped away and he managed to straighten up. Greg pulled up his boxers and jeans with as much dignity as he could muster, then his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees.

"_I don't think I'll need you anymore after this"_ Nick sounded off-handed, as if dropping a fiber off with Hodges _"The next time I fuck, I think it'll be with Warrick."_

Greg made a pathetic sound at this, but shied away when the Southerner reached out to touch him.

"_You're ruined…you know that, don't you Sanders?"_ Nick's voice was dark, his fingers grabbing the boy by the scruff of his neck and holding him like an ignorant kitten _"He's not going to touch you, no matter how much you love him, so you can forget it. You're free for now, but don't piss me off."_

Greg kept his eyes clenched shut, as if willing it all away.

"_Oh, and what's this I hear about you becoming a field agent?"_ Nick let the boy go, watching how he opened his eyes and looked at him with shock _"Yeah, I heard. You're a lab rat, if you stepped into the field…well, it's laughable! You'd get yourself killed! You're a mess of nerves, Sanders, you'd contaminate all the evidence and single-handedly bring this lab down."_

Greg winced at this.

Nick grinned, _"It only hurts because it's true."_

With that, Nick left the room and left a quietly crying lab tech behind.

The room was quiet for only a moment after Archie shut off the tape, then Catherine doubled over the nearest trash can and heaved her lunch. Brass, always the gentleman, held back her hair and let her get it all out. Grissom approached the lab tech, taking the tape from his trembling hands.

"Thank you, Archie" Grissom's voice was quiet, he touched the side of the man's face in a rare gesture of affection "It must have been hard for you, to find this feed and watch it. Take the rest of the day off."Archie was about to protest, but merely nodded and walked off.

"I believe Conrad will want to see this" Grissom held up the tape, eyes hard now. Catherine nodded, wiping her mouth with a tissue from Brass.

"I just can't believe it" Jim tisked, heaving a heavy sigh.

"Which part?" Warrick's voice was humorless "The part where Nick's been raping Greg? Beating him? Or the part where he's in some twisted infatuation with me? Or how about where Greg is letting him do this?"

"Does that look like he was _letting_ him?" Catherine hissed.

"I'm honestly not surprised."

Everyone turned to Grissom, _they_ were surprised.

"I noticed Greg had slipped into depression about four months ago" Grissom began, touching the tape to his forehead thoughtfully "He seemed shaky, but stable. Then I caught a moment between Nick and Greg in the DNA lab, Nick made a proposition that since you were married Warrick and they both wanted you…that they should get together. Greg was reluctant, but miserable. Usually in women, when they fall into a spell of depression, they're more likely to get into self-mutilation and substance abuse. Men, on the other hand, are far more likely to get into a repressive…if not abusive, relationship. No…no, I'm not shocked at that. I'm shocked that it was Nick."

"He lured Greg in when he was derelict, when I was just getting out of my divorce" Warrick pounded a fist against the nearby table, eyes clenched shut "When I couldn't protect him…"

»*»

Meanwhile, Bobby in Ballistics was making a personal call on his cell.

"Stokes, remember that favor I owe you?" Bobby whispered, peering around the corner at the meeting of sorts going on in the A/V lab "Well, here it is, and I don' think I should even be doing it."

"_What the hell are you talkin' about Bobby?"_

"Run" Bobby whispered heatedly, watching Jim Brass leave the lab and dialing his phone "You need to run now, rent a car under a different name or whatever you need to do, but don't go home and don't use your truck."

"…_why?"_

"They found out what you've been doing to Sanders" Bobby watched Warrick overthrow a cart in the hall, his eyes going wide as he pressed himself into the wall "And they're not happy. They'll have your arrest warrant in the hour, I can only tell you to run. Run like hell, man, because they have video proof."

The line went dead, and Bobby had never felt more horrible.

»*»

Greg was processing DNA had a relatively quick pace, but his body was aching all over. The wounds Nick left on him always hurt the most the day after, all the nerves were on fire and his ribs were oversensitive. Every time he bent over the table to look into his microscope, he would have to bite back a groan. There was something strange happening down in the A/V lab, Archie had come past a few minutes ago sniffling. He had stopped briefly at his lab door, giving him an unreadable look, then left.

Greg was confused, but he didn't want to get involved.

"Greg!"

The lab tech looked up at his first name, slipping off his safety glasses and staring at the figure in his door. Warrick was there, clinging to the side of his door frame, wild-eyed. Greg couldn't help note that lovely dark green shirt he was wearing, how it split into a 'V' and exposed a delicious slice of dark flesh. But he managed to rip his eyes away like it burned him, Nick would beat him bloody if he caught him.

"Warrick" Greg managed a slight smile, locking their eyes "Do you…have evidence to run?""Fuck evidence!" Warrick snapped, Grissom and Catherine appearing behind him "Are you ok? Why didn't you say anything?"

Greg's brow furrowed, "I'm…sorry?"

"Oh Greg…baby…" Catherine cooed, close to tears "Why didn't you tell us? Tell _me_? We would've stopped him from hurting you."The beaker in Greg's hand dropped to the floor, water spilling all along the floor and mingling with shards of glass. He gaped dumbly, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Surely they didn't mean…? They couldn't have found out about…?

"Greg" Grissom spoke softly "We know Nick's been taking advantage of you-"

"No…no!" Greg tried to assure them, feeling the beginning of a anxiety attack setting in "It's nothing…Nick's not…you can't know…I…it isn't…"

Warrick spotted the signs, "Greg, _breathe_."

"Oh God, what you must think of me" Greg looked away, stripping off his gloves and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. Warrick approached slowly, the lab tech's shoulders were shaking as he slipped into a panic attack. Greg broke out into a cold sweat, he was wheezing, his digits were shaking, and he felt nauseous. His heart was beating so fast he was sure it was going to explode in his chest, his knees threatened to give way beneath him.

"Shh, Greg, it's ok" Warrick wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist, bringing him into his body "We don't think any less of you, we just want to help."

"I'm sorry…" Greg whispered, letting himself fold into the taller man. They fit perfectly, he rested his head in the curve of space between Warrick's collarbone and neck. He tried to force away the anxiety, focusing only on the musky smell of the CSI and the feeling of being held so securely. A strong hand sifted through his hair, forcing a purr from his lips. He hesitantly placed an open palm on the broad chest, breath evening out as he felt the calm heart beneath the layers of cloth and flesh.

"I've got you" Warrick assured him, pressing a kiss to the top of the lab tech's head "Don't be sorry. We should have seen it…_I_ should have seen it. He won't ever hurt you again, not as long as I live and breath."

Greg managed to smile at the sappy, heroic words…but they calmed him.

Grissom cleared his throat, but they didn't pull away, "Greg…would you like to take a few days off?"

"I…" Greg blinked back tears, speaking only to the man holding him "He has a key to my apartment, to everything. What if he-?"

"Brass sent a squad car there, no one has entered your apartment" Warrick placed a last kiss onto his hair, then let the lab tech go and turned to face his boss "Griss, where's Stokes?"

"Out in the field" the man replied, and then Catherine's phone chimed. The blonde started, then pulled out her phone and flipped it open. She immediately scowled and sent a curt response, then all but threw it back in her purse.

"Nick's disappeared" she seethed, arms crossed "Brass is checking all his accounts and his contacts, but he's gone none the less."

Greg wiped the sweat from his brow, shedding his lab coat, "I'm not sure if I should be relieved…or terrified…how did you guys find out? Was I _that_ obvious?"

"Don't ever commit a crime" Warrick teased, flicking his knuckles over his soft cheek "You can't lie for anything."

"Archie pulled up the feeds from the interrogation room" Greg's eyes went as wide as tea dishes at Grissom's words "Would you care if…well, Greg, honestly…I need to show at least _some_ of the tape to Ecklie. Do you mind?"

"Of course I mind" Greg's voice was like gravel "But…you _have_ to, right?

His supervisor nodded.

"Ok."

"Let me take you to _my_ house" Warrick took his hand, eyes imploring "Do you…would you feel safe enough to sleep there?"

Greg didn't hesitate, "Yes."

"Good" Warrick flashed Grissom a look "I'm going to take him home."

Grissom nodded, "Of course."

Catherine looked between the two, "Are you two…?"

"Come now, Catherine" Grissom grabbed the woman gently by the elbow, leading her away "We have samples to run."

Catherine gave a last look at the two, "…yeah, ok…"

»*»

Warrick drove them to his apartment within the hour, and he was pushing the lab tech through his door before the clock hit 3:00AM. He supplied the boy with a t-shirt two sizes too big and a pair of plaid pajama pats that hung low on his hips. Greg changed quickly, enjoying the sensation of drowning in Warrick's clothes, and then settled o the couch as the CSI got the bed ready.

"I can't believe it" Warrick was half-talking to himself, knowing Greg could hear him "_Nick_ was your boyfriend. If I would've known…I'm the one who told him, Greg, I was trying to get you support. Maybe if I had just kept it to myself until I could get alone with Grissom, Nick wouldn't have…"

Warrick paused, shakingaway the images away as he put a fresh blanket down.

"Greg, Grissom made a comment about how you only let Nick control you because you were depressed. He said you though you deserved it, like you _deserved_ to be hurt. Is it true?" Warrick walked back into the living room "Or was he wrong?"

But Greg was curled against the armrest, knees pressed to his chest and head lolling to the side. He was snoring lightly, but the CSI couldn't blame him. Warrick walked over, easily slipping his hands under his back and knees. Greg settled into his arms, the boy's own arms coming up to wrap around his neck loosely. He murmured softly as he was carried into the bedroom, but didn't protest as he was laid out on the covers.

Warrick made sure the other was comfortable, then brushed a kiss across his cheek. Greg's hand came up, wrapping carelessly around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a chaste kiss. It was soft, it didn't last more than a handful of seconds, but it warmed them.

Warrick took the hand on his neck into his palm, laying it on the bed, "Sleep. You're safe, Greg."

Greg's dark eyes peered up at him, "Will you stay?"

"Not this time, G" Warrick smiled sadly "I've got to go back to work. But I'll be home with you in a few hours. Is that ok?"

"Yeah" Greg's eyes fell shut, and he soon slipped off to sleep.

Warrick watched him a few minutes longer, wondering how Nick could blatantly flirt and go about his normal day after hurting this man. How could he have lived with the guilt? How could he have gone around calling him 'Greggo' and inviting him to lunch only to go home and cuff him to the bed?

He traced a thumb over a bruise on Greg's wrist, knowing what he had to through to gain them.

"I'll be home soon" Warrick repeated to the sleeping figure once more, standing.

Greg was under _his_ wing now..

_**TBC**_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Tainted Love (4/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)

Summary: Greg's starting to lose it, but can Warrick see it if he's slipping too?

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: H/C, substance abuse, slash, delusions

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 2258

Author Note:

ZOMG, this story is taking on a mind of it's own. It was supposed to be fluffy and cute, and now it's pulling a 180 and it's dark. I don't know why I'm writing this, it's just coming out. I swear it'll end well…er, I hope it does. Anyway, you must keep in mind I'm writing this at school. If you have an Algebra class, and you see a girl grinning in the corner scribbling in a notebook, she's writing a dark slash fanfic.

Chloral hydrate (sedative)

Dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride (upper)

Estazolam (insomnia)

Citalopram Hydrobromide (anti-depressants)

Alprazolam (anti-anxiety)

Quetiapine fumarate (anti-psychotic)

_***Take my tears and that's not nearly all**_

_**Oh…tainted love**_

_**Tainted love***_

**~Three Weeks Later~**

Greg parked the lab car near the crime scene, swallowing thickly. It was his first real crime scene, not just trailing after a _real_ CSI and taking their notes for them. His heart was racing madly in his chest, he had to take deep breaths just to keep up. He dug under the seat, pulling out a packed orange prescription bottle of pills. He carefully opened it, eyeing the three different colored pills inside.

"Only a few, not too many at work" Greg muttered to himself, shaking two white pills and one pink into his palm before slipping them past his lips. He choked slightly, but managed to dry swallow them. One last one, a peach colored one, and held onto it before shoving the bottle under the seat again. He glanced up into the rearview mirror, finding his own dark eyes full of desperation.

"You'll do fine" he tried to convince himself, forcing a smile "Warrick will be there…and he knows you need baby steps."

A humorless snort came from beside him, and he didn't have to glance over to know it was just himself. The perfect image of himself, sitting in the passenger side, legs crossed and smirking.

//You think he wants to _baby sit_?// Who knew his voice could turn so _cruel_? //This is his job, and for _some_ reason you want to step all over his toes. You're a lab rat, you better start acting like one. It's your place, not the field.//

Greg clenched his eyes shut, "B-But…but it's too small there, I can't _breathe_."

Faux-Greg scoffed, //You're worthless in the field. The two times you actually got someone to take you out, you either killed a man or tripped over evidence.//

The brunette shook his head weakly, but knew it was true.

//Worthless! Completely worthless!// Faux-Greg gestured wildly, then leant against the window and looked out thoughtfully //Stokes was right, you'd be a fool in the field and single-handedly destroy all the evidence. A lab rat with delusions of grandeur…I wish he was here, at least _then_ you could be punished properly. And you won't fuck Warrick-//

"Enough!" Greg snapped, a tear falling down his face as he popped the last pill almost viciously. He clenched his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears, blocking out the voice of the doppelganger. It took a good full ten minutes, but soon the car became quiet. When he decided to lower his hands and look up, he found himself alone. Wiping at his face harshly, Greg grabbed his kit and got out of the car. He went straight to Warrick, finding the man opening his kit in the back seat of the large SUV.

"Nervous?" Warrick inquired, the other setting his kit close to the edge and opening it.

"Just a little-"

"Damn!" that exclamation wasn't a good thing, and Greg flushed as the man looked over the state of his kit.

"Is…" Greg cleared his throat "Is something wrong?"

"Greg, sweetling, this is wrong" Warrick couldn't believe the state his boy's kit was in. Then Warrick proceeded to tell him about how to keep his chemicals in order, to refill every other day. Swabs in place, several pairs of gloves, make sure batteries are checked and spares handy. Then told him about his attire, to keep a spare set of clothes by the bed just in case of a call.

"Oh" Greg saw the logic there "I'm sorry, it's just…no one ever told me."

"I'm telling you now" Warrick touched his shoulder gently "You're _my_ CSI now, I gotta watch out for you. Now, are you ready for the scene?"

Greg nodded, encouraged by the touch, "Yeah, as ready as ever."

»*»

They shared an apartment now. Well, they shared _Warrick's_ apartment. It had only taken a few days, but they had grown to love and depend on the presence of the other. The apartment was big enough for the two of them, though Warrick had offered him his bed ("If you don't feel like sharing, G.") Greg had refused…that is, unless Warrick agreed to share it with him. Every day they would fall in bed together, sometimes pressed so closely they couldn't breath without feeling each other and sometimes not touching at all on either side of the covers.

The time was theirs now, they would do whatever they wanted with it.

Because of Nick, Greg hadn't been able to be with his lover physically. But Warrick was understanding, and he had let him know in no uncertain terms that he would wait as long as the brunette needed. And Greg loved him all the more for it…he couldn't wait until the pain from Nick faded.

They stumbled in through the door, Greg immediately doubled over in a loud yawn. Warrick playfully swatted him away from the doorway, but tossed his shoes along the wall and his coat on the wooden chair by the kitchen island. Greg straightened, letting his denim jacket settle o nthe hook and his shoes rest by the door. Their kits landed side by side against the wall, ready for the night again when needed.

"_That_ was a long-ass shift" Warrick settled over on the couch, arms spread along the back and legs sprawled out lazily.

"Mmm" Greg agreed, stretching like a cat.

"You were pretty good in the field today" Warrick informed him.

Greg walked past him, smiling, "Was I?"

"Yeah" Warrick snatched his wrist before he could go too far, easily pulling the boy onto his lap. Greg made a pleased sound, thighs bracketing his mentor's hips and making a note of how much bigger Warrick was than him. Not fat, he was built like a frickin' tree. He was brawny, muscular…his hips were wider, waist thick with muscles, chest broader, his arms were like the thing steroids dreamed of, and those hands…

Said hands were wandering over his back, full lips seeking his. Greg complied, pressing closer and sealing their mouth. It still felt strange, new, but no less incredible. They hadn't established a natural rhythm together, but it was only a matter of time.

Warrick's tongue slipped past the slighter man's lips, mapping out every crevice of the warm mouth. That Blue Hawaiian coffee flavor hiding under his tongue, a slight broth tang from the Ramen he had at lunch, but no less perfect. One of Greg's hands curled around is shoulder, the other brushing the hair at the nape of his neck.

The moment drew on, suspended in eternity. They made out right there on the couch, no fear of repercussions or jealous wives or temperamental, abusive boyfriends.

One move brought it to an end, one of Warrick's hands dropped to rest on his thigh.

"I need a shower before bed" Greg murmured, breaking away and sucking in a greedy breath. He cursed how scared he was, how his body immediately recoiled in fear at sex. They both could use a good roll in the sheets, it would be a perfect end to a long day. They would moan and rub, kiss and lick and nibble, thrust and soon all the anxieties of the day would be gone.

But not tonight.

"I'll see you there, then" Warrick took it in stride, kissing the boy on the cheek. Greg bussed their lips one last time, then flashed his mentor a sweet smile and got up.

"…G?"

Greg stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, turning with a creased brow, "Yeah?"

Warrick gave him a lazy once over, "You know I love you, right?"

Greg flushed prettily at the comment, "Yeah…I know, 'Rick. I love you too."

They exchanged slight smiles, then a door shut between them.

Warrick sprung from the couch, fingers nearly trembling. He flexed them, trying to will the jittery feeling away. His nerves were on fire from where Greg had touched him, it made him want to scratch it raw. Stupid, fucking side-effects! The effect from the uppers he had taken were still in affect, he had to calm down before his boyfriend figured out something was wrong. He all but ran into the study, getting on his knees in the corner and running his fingers over the wood. His fingertips caught in a loose board, lifting it up to reveal about half a dozen prescription bottles. Uppers and downers. Warrick dug through them quickly, casting an eye at the door every few seconds.

There! He pulled a bottle out, twisting off the cap almost viciously. He shook three Chloral hydrate tablets into his palm, then paused. One would calm him down, two would get him to sleep, but _three_…three would knock him out fast. With only a small nagging doubt about an overdose on powerful meds, he popped the capsules dry. Long practice kept him from choking, he twisted the cap back on and tossed it into it's cubby.

Warrick stood on shaky legs, he had to get into bed before the pills started working.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Greg was leaning against the door and feeling horrible. Warrick's words, the look in his eyes…that man _trusted_ him! Warrick had done nothing but protect and support him since that fateful day Nick's behavior had been revealed. He had taken him into the field, given him pointers, gave him a home…loved him.

And Greg couldn't even get over his fears enough to fuck.

Greg sniffled pathetically, pushing off the door and walking to the sink. The harsh bathroom light accented every scar on his body, it lit up the faint bite marks on his neck and the dark circles under his eyes. It had been _three weeks_ already, wasn't he supposed to be fixed by now? Give an abuse victim love and support the and their fears will disappear…why did his intensify?

//You look like shit, Warrick wouldn't touch you now even if you let him.//

"Go away" Greg groaned, rubbing at his eyes bitterly.

Faux-Greg was sitting on the edge of the tub, //Ugly, horrid thing. Lab rat.//

Greg shook his head, "Quit."

//I bet if you asked, he wouldn't fuck you// Faux-Greg was chuckling now //He sees you as a child, he calls you his 'boy'. At least Nick saw you as a fuck toy.//

"Just go away" Greg begged, opening the sink mirror to expose his meds. Three different kids of prescription pill bottles lined the shelves, two bottles of each prescription and then two unmarked bottles to make a total of eight bottles. He ran his fingertips over the labels, mentally checking off each one. He plucked two bottles off the shelves, placing them on the porcelain sink. "Why can't you just let me be happy for once?"

//You call _this_ happy? You'll be happy if you down that bottle// Faux-Greg pointed to the anti-depressants on the counter //Take it all.//

"Go to hell. I may not know how to take some of these properly, but I know how to make you go away" the brunette removed an unmarked bottle and a small cup from the shelves. He closed the mirror, catching a gloomy glance of himself. Greg put only one of those Quetiapine fumarate pills into the cup, then two anti-depressants and two estazolam.

//That won't take your pain away!// Faux-Greg yelled //Only a razor will!//

But Greg downed the cocktail with a gulp of tap water. He panted lightly, staring into his own full eyes. The delusion was gone again, silent for the moment. The mirror was truthful, if not unsympathetic. He would be thirty soon…but the delusion was right, he _did_ look immature. Spiked, dyed hair…but the blonde was fading and clung only to the very tips. He was still too thin, even though Warrick had fed him generously every day during his stay.

Greg packed the meds back into the cabinet, flicking off the light and leaving. He stumbled to the bedroom, for he had not taken more than five steps before the meds took affect. He managed to get to the bed in the dim light, then slithered under the covers next to his boyfriend. Warrick's arm lazily snaked around his waist, fingers brushing his navel.

"Tomorrow…after work…" Warrick drawled, his words a little slurred "We're gonna unpack some of those boxes of your stuff…get you moved in right…"

Greg couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, but laced his hand with the CSI's, "Thanks."

Neither mentioned that the shower was never touched.

**TBC**

**Love it or Leave it?**

**3 **_**Emono**_


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Tainted Love (5/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)

Summary: The pain and substance abuse is getting worse, can they keep it from each other much longer?

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: H/C, slash, substance abuse, delusions, angst, illness

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 3310

Author's Note: I'm really sorry if this story is depressing, but maybe it'll get fluffier

Chloral hydrate (sedative)

Dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride (upper)

Estazolam (insomnia)

Citalopram Hydrobromide (anti-depressants)

Alprazolam (anti-anxiety)

Quetiapine fumarate (anti-psychotic)

_***Now I know I've got to**_

_**Run away I've got to**_

_**Get away**_

_**You don't really want it anymore from me***_

**~Next Day~**

"…eg…Greg?…GREG!"

Greg jerked at the voice, bringing his head up so fast his neck protested. He made a pathetic sound, pushing away from the desk on his chair. He stood up on shaky legs, rubbing at his eyes. He felt groggy as hell, unsure where he was or what he was doing. He looked over, squinting in the bright light, finding Sara standing there looking at him curiously.

"Greg, I've been standing here yelling at you for, like, five minutes" Sara was obviously annoyed, and _very_ serious "What have you been doing?"

Greg paled, "Uh…what was I doing?"

"Just staring off into space" Sara snapped.

"No I wasn't" Greg protested weakly "I was…running DNA…samples…"

Greg looked down at the work before him, then at the whirring analyzing machine.

"See" he gestured at it, knowing he was ok "It's running them right now, I must've…I was just waiting."

"No, Greg" Sara's voice was softer now, she picked up a tray containing samples "This is what you were supposed to be running, isn't it?"

"No" Greg disputed, clicking off the machine and opening the lid. He gaped at the lack of contents in the machine, the indentions were evidently empty. He couldn't believe it…the tray Sara was holding…he had put those samples in about half an hour ago. Well…apparently not.

"Greg? Are you ok? You're acting like you were when Nick was fucking you, only worse."

That struck a sour note with Greg. When he had been with Nick, the man hadn't let him take any medication for his problems. He had been depressed, suffered from insomnia, had panic attacks, and had to deal with his delusions on his own. Nick had always just ignored him when he put his hands over his ears and would sit in the corner for hours trying to will the voice away. But no meds…Nick had refused to fuck a druggie, like he would catch it or something. To imply that Greg was worse off without the Southerner was…was unforgivable…and a low blow at that!

"I'm perfectly happy, Sara" Greg half-lied, knowing he was the happiest he had been in a long time with Warrick "Come back in twenty minutes, I'll have your damn samples run by then."

»*»

**~Later That Day~**

Warrick loaded the SVU slowly at the end of working a scene, his dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride was wearing off. Sara had already left the scene, and had taken most of the samples. He had the pictures, and he needed to get back to the lab soon. But his head was all fuzzy, like someone had lined his brain with cotton. He was vaguely nauseas, and when he slipped into the seat of the car the leather seats rasped across the small of his back and made him gasp. Hypersensitivity…that wasn't good…

Warrick closed the door, sighing heavily and leaning his forehead against the steering wheel. He didn't want to do it, but the symptoms weren't leaving him any choice. He knew he had to cut down, but…there was no way he could go back into work like this.

Warrick pulled the prescription bottle out of his duffle bag in the back, it was just on the side for easy access (like that didn't scare him.) He twisted off the cap, shaking two white, round pills into his palm and taking them dry. He leant back in the seat, eyes fluttering closed.

Now all he had to do was wait.

»*»

**~Two Days Later~**

Greg snapped a picture of the void in the blood pool by the body, smiling softly to himself. He was finally where he wanted to be, if not only for today. Grissom had let Warrick and Catherine take him along, and his boyfriend had assigned him the task of picture-duty while he sketched the area. It made him feel like a real CSI, even though he was just a trainee. He felt free, the only boundaries the walls of the house that the crime had taken place in (double murder and dog.)

"Greg, snap it and bag it" Warrick pointed to a syringe on the floor, evidently empty though un-pressed "It may be nothing, or it could be something.""Yes sir" Greg grinned at the man, who flashed him one in return before venturing farther into the house. Humming pleasantly, the brunette snapped a few pictures from various angles and zooms. When he was satisfied, he reached down with double-gloved hand and gently picked it up by the plunger.

//That thing's filled with air, you know.//

Greg's eyes widened, no way could this be happening. Not at work, not at work…everything was going so well, he was finally on the field! The brunette slowly turned on his heels, spotting the delusion sitting on the coffee table smirking like a cat. He slowly stood, making sure Catherine and Warrick were out of earshot.

"Get out of here!" Greg hissed lowly, glaring as best he could.

//Oh shut up. You're acting like a kitten pretending to be a tiger// Faux-Greg scolded him, then nodded at the syringe //That has air in it.//

Greg looked down at the evidence in his hand, "…yeah, so?"

//Inject it.//

Greg's eyes went terribly wide, the horrid thought playing itself out in his mind. An air bubble in the vein could easily kill someone, a mis-beat of the heart and he was done for. He looked down at the syringe, it was full of about an inch of air. Enough to kill him easily…

"Why?" Greg rasped, eyes glazed over now as he looked down at the needle almost longingly "Why would I do something so severe?"

//Because it's all you've wanted for months, an escape from Nicky// Faux-Greg persuaded him //Now to escape from his memories…to let Warrick go…to let Warrick be truly happy.//

"I want Warrick happy…" Greg swallowed thickly, subconsciously tugging up the sleeve of his shirt.

//I know you do, lab rat// Faux-Greg tisked //Now just shove it in your arm, already. It's just a quick jab of pain, then you won't feel a thing after it.//

"Just my brain releasing chemicals to shut off every major function, bright lights" Greg mumbled, nearly inaudible as he brought the needle up.

//That's it// Faux-Greg was hissing now, eager and nearly bouncing in his seat //Do it, Greggo…do it! Just fuckin' kill yourself! He'll be happier without you, maybe he'll even get with Catherine. You know how much he loves her, how much he used to follow after her. Do it, do it!//

"Greg?"

That voice was timid, kind, not the image of himself across the room. Greg looked up with vacant eyes, blinking dully at who was before him. Catherine was now at the base of the stairs, holding a few evidence bags and looking at him curiously. Her eyes held worry, her posture unsure.

//No!// Faux-Greg jumped up, enraged //Leave! Kill her!//

"Greg?" Catherine took a step forward, brow drawn "What are you doing?"

Greg's eyes drifted between her and the syringe, it was poised a few inches above the vulnerable skin of his exposed inner forearm. He had to do this twice before he realized what he was doing, then flashed her a smile and pulled an evidence bag out of his kit. He bagged the syringe like it was nothing, trying to keep a carefree look on his face while he wrote out the details on the bag.

Greg turned, but found her right in his face.

//You can't fool her// the doppelganger cooed //You can't fool her, Gregor. She's wicked smart, she sees what lies in your heart. She knows you're worthless, and she wants Warrick for herself.//

"What was that, Greg?" Catherine's voice was sterner now "What were you about to-?"

"Nothing" Greg's voice was a little breathy, quick, then he made himself more solid "I was just thinking about how it could have been used. If Doc Robbins finds a puncture mark, my theory might be right."

Faux-Greg scoffed, //Little liar!//

"Already forming theories, Sanders?" Warrick teased, coming back into the living room with a few swabs and a bagged phone "You just might be cut out for this."

//He's lying, he's lying// it was almost a chant, audible beneath their voices //You're worthless, you're a lab rat. You're not fit to wipe his boots, let alone be touched by-//

"You know me" Greg tried not to raise his voice too high, but he wanted to drown the voice out "Always thinking, trying to put pieces together that have no business together."

The voice wouldn't shut up, //Like you and Warrick.//

"I've gotta pee" Greg's voice got quick again, and he gave them a faux-bright smile before all but running out of the house. Once he was out of sight, he _did_ break into a run all the way to the end of the driveway. He managed to lean over the neighbor's trash can before he threw up, the contents of his stomach burned his throat raw and brought tears to his eyes. He hadn't eaten much, so the action didn't last long. He sputtered, dry-heaved, then finally slumped down on the sidewalk.

//Real smooth// Faux-Greg rolled his eyes, standing towards the right of him //Like they won't know what you're doing now. You'll starve to death, you know, if you keep throwing up. Or is this a suicide attempt I have nothing to do with? Very creative, but Warrick will catch on.//

"Please just leave me alone…" Greg begged, pulling out a flat pill box from his back pocket. He flipped it open, taking out two of the pink pills and one peach colored one. He popped them, swallowing desperately before curling over his knees and pressing his palms to his ears. He had no idea how long he stayed like that, but soon the pills did their work and he didn't feel quite so bad anymore.

With a sigh, he slowly lowered his hands and sat up on the sidewalk. But when he turned to get up, he found Catherine standing there again…staring at him like he was insane.

"Greg, you're not ok" Catherine began, taking in the sight of the boy on his knees on the street "What the hell is going on?"

"Just forget it, Cath" Greg's voice was almost pleading "I just got a little nervous, you know how it is. My first real crime scene, I just need some time to adjust."

Catherine really didn't want to believe it, but she knew that was all she was going to get, "Ok…I'll leave it alone _this_ time Greg."Greg almost withered in relief, then tensed all over.

"Hey Cath?"

She arched a brow, "Yes?"

"Don't tell Warrick, ok?"

"…fine."

»*»

**~Next Day~**

Greg shut off the boiling hot water of the shower, murmuring softly about how he needed to restock his illuminate in his kit. He pushed aside the shower curtain, yawning slightly as he shied away from the bright light from the ceiling. It was quiet, but he knew that if he didn't take his quetiapine fumarate that fuckin' delusion would come back.

Greg snatched a towel off the rack on the wall, briefly running it over his chest and arms before finally wrapping it around his waist. He strode over to the sink, getting his toothbrush and paste ready before looking up into the reflected surface. He winced, dark bags under his eyes that got darker by the day and pale skin met him. He was losing his color, fast. He was wasting away, no matter how much he crammed down his throat. He only managed to keep down half he ate, the rest got sent down the toilet or in the trash can at the lab.

He had just shoved his toothbrush into his mouth when the bathroom door opened, startling him. Warrick walked in, looking a little discolored himself, but his smile was warm. He was clad in his pajama pants, and not a lot more.

"Hey babe" Warrick walked behind him, dropping a kiss on the back of his neck and catching his eyes in the mirror "You look hot fresh out of the shower."

Greg scrubbed at his teeth, but smiled past the plastic.

Warrick pressed his face into the brunette's neck, sniffing, "Smell nice, too."

"You're a kiss ass in the morning" Greg teased, though there was a slight panic in his chest. His only anti-psychotic drugs were in the cabinet, he couldn't finish his cocktail without it. There were more of the others shoved into the bottom of his kit and at the lab, but those didn't keep that stupid doppelganger away.

"Only for you" Warrick nibbled sweetly at his shoulder, hands brushing his hips "You done with the bathroom, babe?""Yeah" Greg lied, rinsing and spitting his toothpaste. He washed off his toothbrush, then put it next to the dark red one of his lover. He turned, giving Warrick a long kiss before leaving his boyfriend the privacy of his own bathroom. Warrick gave him a grin, then shut the door. His grin immediately disappeared when his boyfriend could no longer see him, he put a hand over his mouth and staggered over to the toilet. He threw open the lid, then dropped to his knees and heaved into the bowl. Any breakfast he had managed to force down (a half piece of toast and some orange juice) was gone down the pipes, and after two more heavy dry heaves he was able to flush it all away.

Warrick sat back against the tub, groaning softly.

//Fuckin' pills…// Warrick ran a hand over his eyes //I can barley keep up the front for Greg anymore. I hope to God he doesn't feel like fuckin' soon, I don't think I can take it.//

Greg, on the other hand, was ransacking his newly organized kit. He had to remove everything from the bottom, leaving it all spread out by his side. He took out that one orange bottle filled with all his pills, then dumped them out in his palm. He carefully sifted through them with one finger, then groaned in frustration when he saw there was no anti-psychotic pills in the pile.

Greg didn't even think about it, he stood and walked over to the sink. He filled a cup with tap water, easing all the pills onto the counter and sorting out all the citalopram hydrobromide and alprazolam. Five 10mg of anti-depressants…five taupe pills, the 1mg anti-anxiety…He tried distraughtly to remember the max doses for each one, but the original bottles were in the mirror cabinet in the bathroom.

"What's the worse thing that could happen?" Greg tried to convince himself, taking the five anti-anxiety pills into his palm. With a deep breath, he popped them onto his tongue and took a long pull off the glass. He couldn't lose his nerve, he _needed_ this, his body ached for it. The last five pills went down with less fight, but there was a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.

This wasn't going to end well, but he couldn't be concerned with that. All he knew was that he had to hurry and clean up his mess in the living room, or Warrick would think something was wrong. He could destroy his body, his organs, and he could fry every brain cell…but…

If Warrick ever found out, he would break.

»*»

Greg wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, giving a soft moan. He was getting another hot flash, God-damn-it! He was stuck in the lab again, but he was grateful. He shouldn't have taken all those fucking pills earlier, but what was he supposed to do? By the time Warrick had given up the bathroom, it had been time to leave. The day had been torture, you could almost set your watch by the hot flashes he got every hour. Not to mention the vomiting, but he only got actual substance once before it was just a bit of dry heaving.

It was about midnight, he wasn't sure how he was going to make it until the end of his nine hour shift.

"Greg" the brunette looked up, Archie was poking his head into his lab with Mandy and Henry hovering behind him "You want to grab some lunch with us?"

Greg's stomach tossed unpleasantly, "Nah. I haven't got much of an appetite."

"Oh" Archie's smile dropped "Come on, Greg. You're going to be a field agent soon, then you won't have any time for us lowly lab tech's."

Greg wiped at a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek, "I'm sorry, Arch…I'm just not hungry. I promise tomorrow, ok? Lunch, all of us…minus Hodges."

"Always minus him" Archie made a face "Greg…you don't look so well…""I know" Greg forced a bright smile "But don't worry about me, ok?"

Archie nodded, "I'll try."

Then Greg was left alone again…well, mostly alone.

//Archie's a whore, you know, just like you// Faux-Greg was skulking in front of the door, glaring after the other lab tech's //You know he's letting Grissom fuck him over his desk, there's no denying.//

"Stop it, Archie's my friend" Greg removed his gloves, tossing them in the trash "I don't care if he's doing Grissom, he's a good guy."

//You're going to ruin all the samples, Worthless// Faux-Greg eyed his sweaty palm //What's wrong? Symptoms finally catching up to you?//

Greg leant hard against the table, "M'fine."

//Oh no you're not, little lab rat// Faux-Greg was circling him //You're weak…in more ways than one. Deep down, you know you deserve this. You keep all of Warrick's time, his heart…you took all those pills, you _want_ to die!//

Greg shook his head softly, "No…I was just trying to keep _you_ away…"

//I'll never go away, I'll always be here// Faux-Greg's voice grew deeper, almost distorting //As long as you think you deserve punishment, I'll be here to remind you how useless you are. Weak little boy, you'll bend over for anyone who will have you.//

"Stop…stop…" Greg put his hands over his ears, bowing his head, but it was still there.

//Stupid, worthless thing, you're only a disgrace!// Faux-Greg was nearly cackling now //No wonder your mother never let you out of the house, she knew what rubbish you were, even as a child! She wasn't protecting you from the world, she was protecting society from _you_!//

Greg's knees threatened to give out on him, his vision was blurring.

//Nick was the only one who saw who you really were// Faux-Greg spat //A whore, a lab rat, only a toy. You're not strong enough to be someone, you're faint-hearted and feeble. The only thing you had going for you was that bit a of fire, and you let Stokes take that away from you! You're identity's gone! You're no one, nothing, who could love a thing like you?!//

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Greg tried to get to the door, but the delusion stood there screaming at him. He stumbled backwards, helplessly losing his footing, arms sprawling.

All he knew was darkness and an unyielding floor.

_**TBC**_


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Tainted Love (6/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick)

Summary: Grissom confronts the boys head on about their addictions after Greg's fit, and they need to work through their problems and help each other. Are they worth it? Hell yeah!

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: H/C, slash, substance abuse, illness, angst, scolding, realization, OOC-ness

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 3033

_Chloral hydrate (sedative)_

_Dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride (upper)_

_Estazolam (insomnia)_

_Citalopram Hydrobromide (anti-depressants)_

_Alprazolam (anti-anxiety)_

_Quetiapine fumarate (anti-psychotic)_

_***To make things right**_

_**You need someone to hold you tight**_

_**And you'll think love is to pray**_

_**But I'm sorry I don't pray that way***_

Warrick was in the Trace Lab, hovering around Hodges and waiting for his evidence results back. He rubbed at his tired eyes, swallowing only to grimace as a trace of sour lingered under his tongue. These pills were killing him, he didn't know what he was going to do. They were starting to control him, controlling his relationship…he wanted to court Greg properly, but he was always so damn tired.

"Oh God, is he ok?!"

Warrick looked up at the panicked voice of Mandy Webster, spotting her just before she dashed down the hall. He ran out, looking around to see a commotion by the DNA lab. His heart sped up double-time, his earlier fatigue was gone. He ran at the crowd, shoving people and elbowing several in the ribs.

"Elevate his head…"

Those were the lab's medics, he spotted their blue uniforms. Warrick finally made his way to the front, stumbling in to stand beside Grissom. The older man looked pale, gazing upon the scene with a grim expression. Warrick followed his line of sight, then gasped.

Greg was collapsed on the floor, pale and trembling and having trouble breathing. Two medics were on either side of him, one was taking his vitals and the other was holding his head and pressing an oxygen mask to his mouth. Greg was out cold, limp in their grip.

After a few minutes, Doc Robbins appeared and had the good sense to dismiss the group.

"The boy's not a sideshow, don't you people have work to do!" Robbins barked, swinging one of his walking sticks "Hasn't he been threw enough? Back to work! Now!"

Once the crowd had dispersed, Doc Robbins grumbled and made his way back to the morgue.

"Dr. Grissom, sir, I'm afraid this man's OD'd" the medic stated, marking down all of the lab tech's vitals "Luckily, it seems like his body expelled most of it. A few more minutes on the oxygen mask and he should be fine. But, sir, he'll be weakened. I think you should send him home…"

Grissom's voice was hard, "Do you have any idea what he overdosed on?"

"I could send it to the Toxicology lab, you'll have the results soon" the medic assured him.

Warrick started to say something, but Grissom cut him off, "Could you take my CSI's blood with you down to that lab as well?"

The medic looked confused along with the CSI in question, "Why, Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom's smile was grim, "Just a hunch."

The medic nodded, the other medic awakened Greg gently.

"Oh fuck" Greg muttered, eyes glassy "My head hurts like hell."

"Both of you in my office" Grissom commanded, then gentled his voice with the medic "Could you take their blood samples now? And, tell Henry I want a background on all medication found in the systems."

The medic nodded, "Yes, sir."

»*»

**~Later~**

The three men sat in Grissom's office, quiet and two of them subdued. Greg was on the couch near the door, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Warrick was in the chair in front of his boss's desk, and Gil was on the other side. The blood results would be coming back soon, and they knew they had to sort this out before then.

Grissom spoke first, "What's going on?"

"Nothing" Warrick bit off, not looking at Greg pointedly "I don't know what Greg OD'd on."

And Greg wasn't talking.

"I've noticed the change in both of you, as has the rest of us" Grissom's eyes flickered to the door "Speak of the devils in Prada…"

Catherine and Sara entered the office, Catherine held a folder in her hands.

"Are we all ready then?" Grissom stood from his desk.

The black man rose a brow at this, "Where are we going?"

"Easy" Gil walked over, taking his youngest CSI by the elbow and helping him to his feet "Your apartment. We're going to nip this in the ass, with or without your help."

»*»

Warrick and Greg were man-handled into their own apartment, for they both knew it would be better to do this here than at the lab.

"What happened today, Greg?" Catherine cooed, approaching the young man and putting her hands on either side of his face "I'm so worried about you. All those times I caught you-"

"No" Greg cut her off, eyes pleading "Don't do this, Cath, don't tell them."

"I have to" she whispered tearfully, backing away.

"Let's see what we have here" Grissom flipped open the Tox report, reading it over. The lovers exchanged a look, breath baited. They had no idea what was going on, but haunting fears were starting to creep up on them. Their boss stayed quiet, sharing the results only with Catherine. They silently communicated, then their eyes went to Sara.

"Sara" Grissom snapped the folder shut "Tell us what you can.""Gladly" Sara crossed her arms, recalling what she had seen "Greg set the DNA machine to start, then didn't move for over 30 minutes. I went in there to check on him, only to find out he didn't respond to my voice for about 5 minutes. He seemed disorientated, and I soon found out he didn't even put the DNA samples _in_ the machines."

"Your dialogue sucks" Greg muttered, then spoke up "It was an honest mistake-"

But Grissom held up a hand, silencing him, "Sara, that's all for now. Thank you."

Sara all but swooned, "Anything for you, Gil."

With that, she left.

"I didn't think you'd want her in your home any longer than necessary" Gil assured them, then opened the file again "Do you two want my help?"

Warrick gave him a look, "You know we do, Griss."

Greg couldn't just let it go, "Warrick, please-"

"G, unless you tell me right now why you collapsed today…" Greg couldn't look his lover in the eyes, he could only cross his arms and duck his head "Then we _need_ him."

Grissom nodded solemnly, "Then let's start with the bathroom."

»*»

Greg stood motionless outside the doorway, peeking around the door hinge, afraid what Grissom was going to find. Warrick was pressed against the wall inside the bathroom, facing the mirror over the sink, and Catherine was standing in front of the tub. Grissom handed her the file, then hesitantly opened the mirror. Greg made a heartrending sound at this action, chewing his bottom lip.

"Who's are these?" Grissom eyed the long line of prescription bottles, most with the labels torn off.

"Not mine…I've never seen those" Warrick nearly choked, turning to look his lover in the eyes "G…baby…what are all those?"

Greg tried to respond, but his throat closed up.

"These are all yours, aren't they Greg?" Grissom's voice was soft, like crushed velvet. The brunette nodded slowly, tears coming to his eyes, but he put a clamp on them. His supervisor started to remove them, Catherine stepping closer to help identify each bottle by the file and it's color.

"These two are estazolam" Grissom was speaking to Warrick, who recognized that name "It's used for insomnia. Causes daytime drowsiness and abnormal thinking…doesn't it Greg?"

"Yes" Greg's voice was hoarse, and when his lover gave him a look he tried to explain "I can't sleep…I tried to sleep without them and just laid in bed wide awake for hours. It was horrible, Warrick, I had to have them…don't you see?"

Warrick only looked away.

"And these here are alprazolam…anti-anxiety or nerve pills" Grissom laid out three bottles "They cause hot flashes, decreased weight, loss of appetite, blurred vision. Max dosage for anxiety or panic disorders…4mg."

"Oh shit" Greg whimpered, this caught Warrick's attention again "I…I think I took too many this morning…"

"You _think_?" Warrick tried not to snap, but this was such a huge thing to keep secret that he wondered how stupid he could be not to notice "How many did you take?"

Greg dropped his gaze, "Five."

"Why?" Warrick didn't know if he should hug or slap his boyfriend.

"I have nerves, you know that" Greg's eyes snapped up, almost defiant "I'm scared to death all the time that I'm going to fuck up, that I'm going to loss a piece of key evidence. Stokes pounded those fears into me, I can't just let it go like it's nothing!"

The bathroom got quiet, and Grissom set out two more bottles.

"These are…citalopram hydrobromide" Catherine sighed sadly, eyeing the three bottles Grissom set down on the counter "It's an anti-depressant. Max dosage is 40mg. It causes decreased or increased weight, fatigue, decreased libido, and…and suicide attempts! Oh God, Greg!"

"No, Catherine" Greg implored fiercely.

"At a scene, I caught Greg dazed out and…" Catherine couldn't look anywhere but into Grissom's eyes "He had a syringe full of air held over his arm, Gil. I thought he was going to…oh God…and then after he left the house, he was hunched over on the sidewalk holding his hands to his ears."

Warrick turned on his lover, "What?"

"No, I would never…never…" Greg had tears streaming down his eyes out of pure frustration "I just…I was having all these horrible thoughts and…"

"Then these make sense" Grissom took out two unmarked bottles "This is quetiapine fumarate…these tablets are 25mg, and the max is 100mg a day. It causes anorexia, vomiting after you eat…almost immediately. It's an anti-psychotic."

Warrick gaped, "You're fuckin' psychotic?"

Greg turned and left, but his lover wasn't going to let him leave so easily. Warrick caught him in the middle of the living room, grabbing his arm and turning him around. Tearful dark eyes implored him to understand, but he couldn't voice his secrets. He'd kept them hidden all this time…

"I thought I was doing a good job" Greg admitted "I thought I had it under control…I thought I didn't need help…I didn't want to burden you guys. Especially not you, 'Rick."

"Then what the hell was that earlier? You fuckin' _collapsed_ in your lab, you OD'd!" Warrick gestured wildly "You took way too many pills, Greg…tell me you weren't trying to kill yourself?!"

"No! Yes! I don't know!" Greg's voice turned bitter "What the hell do I know? I'm just a psycho!"

"Fine, if you're not, what's with those drugs?!" Warrick barked, eyes flaming "Anti-psychotics? Seriously, what doctor did you fuck to get those?!"

Warrick regretted the words as soon as he saw the pain in those dark eyes he loved so much, and his boyfriend seemed to bristle in anger.

"It's not my fault! I didn't know what else to do!" Greg was screaming "Do you even know how bad Nick fucked me up?! I was depressed, I was freaked out! And the bastard wouldn't let me take _anything_ for it! I was by myself for so long…I think I broke…I started seeing things, and there's this voice and it's so horrible…I don't want to kill myself, I don't want to leave you, I don't want Nick back, I don't want _anything_ it says! I just want my life back, I want to be normal! I-I…I w-want to be _me_ again!"

Greg pressed his forearm to his eyes, breaking into sobs. Warrick couldn't take it, his anger faded and his heart ached for his boy. He stepped closer, but Greg recoiled and nearly fell in fear.

"Baby, come here" Warrick cursed how he sounded as if he was begging "I'd never hurt you, G…I'm so sorry, come here…"

Greg didn't fight when his arms wrapped around him, pressing kisses to his cheek and temple, letting him know he wasn't mad. After a few moments, the brunette melted into the touch and let his weight rest against the other man. They stayed like that for a suspended moment, Warrick whispering sweet nothings to him while Greg let him.

"I didn't mean a word of it, you just scared me babe" Warrick whispered "You know how much I love you, how I'd never hurt you. You should have told me, I could have helped you…I still want to help you."

Greg smiled weakly, "I know…I know now…"

"Uh, Warrick" Grissom stepped out of the bathroom "We're not done yet."

»*»

This time, Warrick was the one standing hesitantly by the doorway and looking nervously onto the scene. Greg was looking around curiously, he hadn't been in here much. Like the medicine cabinet over the sink being his, Warrick had claimed this space as his own for privacy. Catherine was gently sifting through the drawers in the desk, but Grissom was eyeing the walls and the floor.

"This would be easier if you'd just tell them where they are" Greg grumbled good-naturedly, casting a glance at his boyfriend "Whatever 'they' are."

Warrick pun his ring nervously, scowling slightly, "Like how you just gave up _your_ meds?"

Greg quieted, "Touché."

Grissom, who knew Warrick better the he knew himself, carefully stalked through the study and examined every detail. Where would an addict hide his fix? Somewhere hidden, but easily accessed. In plain sight, but secure enough to eliminate paranoia. He backed into the corner, trying to get a complete view of the room, and his heel was brought down on the corner of a board. It creaked loudly, and his curiosity peaked.

Warrick was nearly sweating, hands balled into fists. Grissom knelt down on the floor, carefully running his fingertips over the polished surface. The tip of his index finger caught on the edge. With a soft grunt, he removed the board from the floor and revealing a cubby beneath. The older man sighed, pulling out four bottles of prescription meds and comparing them with the file.

"Chloral hydrate and dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride" Catherine began, comparing the notes "Chloral hydrate…it's a sedative, those are 250mg capsules. Causes hypersensitivity, nausea, vomiting…"Greg's eyes flashed, and now he knew.

"Let's see…dexmethylphenidate hydrochloride…" Catherine ran a nail over the lines of text, frowning "Basically, it's an upper. These are for ADHD, it increases the concentration in the synapse…but it's usually used for children…it also causes hypersensitivity, nausea…twitching…these are horrible."

"Uppers _and_ downers?" Greg turned on his heels, red-rimmed eyes glaring at the taller man "What were you thinking?"

Warrick pushed off the doorframe, "You have no room to talk."

"This isn't about me anymore, it's not even about you, it's about _us_" Greg closed the distance between the, but the CSI wasn't backing down "What are we doing to ourselves, 'Rick? We're both in so much pain…and we were afraid to tell each other. I'm tired of hurting, aren't you? Can't we face those problems…_together_?"

Greg took the last step closer, clasping both his hands over one of Warrick's broad ones.

"Aren't _we_ worth it?"

"Of course we are" Warrick wrapped his arms around his boy, holding him firmly and pressing his lips to his ear "I've been so scared for you, G. I could see it, but I couldn't figure it out. You were wasting away in front of me, you never ate, and I knew you couldn't keep anything down. You would be standing there right in front of me, and then you'd just…daze out. I didn't know what I could do, I should have looked closer."

"I should have looked too" Greg admitted, pressing his face into his boyfriend's stalwart neck "You were getting sick too. Everyday you went through bouts of jitter and sloth. I knew something was wrong, but I just assumed you would tell me if you thought I was worthy to know it…"

"Why wouldn't you, babe?" Warrick pulled back enough to cup the brunette's face, he forced those dark eyes to meet his and he let his own jade orbs burn into him "Who put those fears in your head?"

"Nick and…and that damn voice" Greg didn't care how crazy he sounded, all he wanted was to feel Warrick close to him again "It's horrible, I don't know what's wrong with me. One minute I'll be fine, the next he'll be there talk to me. B-But…it _is_ me, and it isn't. Gods, I'm so confused, all I know is that it hurts. I don't know how many pills I took, I just didn't want him to come back. All I kept thinking was, 'What if he…_it _comes back at the wrong time said the right thing…what if I wasn't strong enough next time? What if I can't resist it? What if I _did_ take a razor and…' "

Greg saw the pain in the depths of his lover's eyes.

"I kept thinking that it would make you happier" Greg nuzzled into the warm palms brushing his cheeks "You know, if I wasn't around."

"You don't know how wrong you are" Warrick assured him softly "You don't know how lost I would have been. I don't care what this voice said, you are my own and I love you. I saw you collapse today and…I've never known pain like that. Seeing your life taken out of my hands was hard…"

Greg's heart fluttered at the admission, cheeks flushing.

"But you're losing yourself…and, baby, it's not just because of Nick anymore" Warrick spoke gently, he didn't want to hurt the man "It's these pills, this dependency…it's smothering your fire."

Oh, Greg knew that, he saw it everyday in the mirror.

"Yeah" Greg blanketed the hands on his face "What are we going to do?"

Grissom cleared his throat, catching the couples attention.

"Boys…I may have an idea."

_**TBC**_


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Tainted Love (7/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: Greg had a long battle in rehab, Warrick doesn't do to well, and they deserve some time together.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: H/C, slash, substance abuse, illness, angst, fluff, AU (I'm manipulating time)

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J I own St. Angelus, Dr. Dansen, and Dr. Palin.

Word Count: 2493

AN: Don't ask where the Grissom/Archie came from, it snuck up on me and bit me in the ass, cause I usually like Archie paired with Nick…and if Nick had been available, I would have

_***Once I ran to you (I ran)**_

_**Now I'll run from you**_

_**This tainted love you've given**_

_**I give you all a boy could give you**_

_**Take my tears and that's not nearly all***_

Grissom _did_ have an idea, and a good on a that. Actually, the man had known about their problems for weeks and had carefully planned ahead of time. He had salvaged their relationship, exposed their skeletons, and had nearly single-handedly paved the way for growth. Catherine, of course, had pegged herself surrogate mother of them both.

Greg had been sent to a Rehab center of sorts. Gil had checked it out a month in advance, meeting the doctors and reviewing their treatments. _St_. _Angelus _was in combination rehab/therapy/rehabilitation center, it was the perfect place for the lab tech to rest at.

At the center, Greg was slowly weaned off each medication. First came the nerve pills, the consequences were only a slight paranoia for a week and some nausea. Then came the anti-depressants, which was the worst. He had throw up everything he had put down his throat for two weeks and he couldn't stop trembling. Not to mention the shock he had gone through the first few days…

But the doctors and nurses there were nice, understanding, and he had help.

Finally, after a month and a half, he was allowed to see Warrick.

"Hey babe" Warrick had sat down beside him on his cot, his room looking incredibly small with the larger man there.

" 'Rick" Greg will admit it, he had purred and curled into his boyfriend's side. Warrick had wrapped an arm around him, both soaking in their first contact in weeks. They had stayed like that for most of the afternoon, whispering about nothing and just enjoying each other. It had taken that long for Greg to come to terms.

"Why are you here, 'Rick?" Greg pulled away, blinking up at him "I'm not technically allowed to have visitors until two months ago."

"I wanted to be here for you " Warrick had kissed his forehead then, in that sweet way that made him want to coo "They thought it'd be best if I was here instead of a stranger."

Greg's brow creased, "For what?"

Warrick's jade eyes had darkened, "For your second psychotic break."

And Warrick had been right. The doctors had decided to wean him off the anti-psychotic drugs before the insomnia pills. Why? Because they ran a dozen tests on him mentally and physically and had come up with one conclusion: He wasn't psychotic. His delusions were only caused by the severe emotional trauma he had gone through. It wasn't a common thing in abuse victims, but _it happened_. It seems his case was special, and they had done everything from physical therapy to art classes to try ad keep him at ease.

But the break he had after getting off the medication had been horrible.

The first day was uneventful, it consisted of playing cards with Warrick and inquiring about the man's own therapy was going. Warrick hadn't wanted to talk about it much, he had insisted that he was here for _him_ and _his_ recovery.

On the second day, all hell broke loose.

Greg had clung desperately to Warrick, face buried in the man's shirt as he tried to ignore Faux-Greg's taunting. All day, every minute, that cruel voice was hissing and spitting out horrible tings. Worthlessness, how he deserved Nick's treatment, how Warrick was only wasting his time with him…how he didn't have the skill to be a field agent…nothing but lab rat…

On the third day, it peeked. Greg was screaming for relief, begging for his pills, wanting nothing more than to press a pillow to his face and never take another breath. He had broken into a cold sweat, thrashing on his cot and throwing a petulant fit for his meds. Eventually Warrick had heard enough and had pinned him to the bed, commanding him to calm down. Greg had immediately obeyed his boyfriend's tone, going still beneath his grip.

Warrick had immediately apologized, taking the boy into his arms and kissing his hair. They had laid on the cot together, Greg sweating and trembling and the darker man whispering and caressing. The connection between them was palpable, the their kisses chaste and words sweet. That had been the first time Greg had expressed how he felt about the whole ordeal, in just a few words…

"_Warrick_…_I think I'm going to make it out of here_…"

Warrick was forced to leave two days later, after they were sure Sanders wasn't going to relapse. He technically wasn't aloud to have visitors, and Warrick had his own therapy to get to. Another week alone set the foundation, he could live without the meds. He had faced his fears and had a mental break. Doubts no longer consumed him, the paranoia was lessened, but his sleep was still fitful.

It had taken two full weeks to kick the insomnia drugs. The first four nights were the worst, _long _nights all but alone. But his saving grace was that Grissom had decreed him sober (and safe) enough to catch up on paperwork. Though he didn't get to see his boss, Catherine had showed up with the work. She had cooed and fussed over him, but made lots of positive comments. She had snuck in a Carmello bar for him, and he had almost cried at the thoughtfulness. They could only chat for a few minutes, but it was enough to cement his new self-confidence.

He was missed at the lab, they couldn't wait to bring them back as a field agent.

»*»

So now, two weeks later, he was deemed cured…physically and mentally fit to return to reality…but it would be another week until he could go back to work.

Greg had his duffle bug packed and thrown over his shoulder, his oversized denim jacket seemed to fit better now. He nervously carded his finger through his hair, then went out and shut his door for the very last time. He made his way down the halls, refusing to make eye contact. He felt guilty that he was getting out now and the others he had been in therapy with wouldn't be out for months…

Was it his fault he was such an easy fix?

A few more months of addiction and he would have turned out just like them.

"Gregory" Dr. Dansen, the lead doctor on his case, was waiting for him by the door.

"Caramel" Greg teased, stopping in front of him. He had immediately clicked with this man, even if his last name reminded him of the Dutch Caramel Dansen (it was a big craze and the anime nuts.)

The older gentleman absently raised a manila folder, "These are your release papers, your supervisor already signed these and I've made sure all pot holes were paved. You've been given amazing recommendation, there's no reason they shouldn't let you back to work in a week."

"Thanks, doctor" Greg flashed him a genuine smile, accepting the folder that released him and shoving it into the side of his bag "Do I-"

"Just give them to Director Ecklie and the Sheriff" Dr. Dansen smiled knowingly, gesturing "Go home."

The brunette nodded, "Again…thanks."And then he was free. Greg stepped out the double doors, pausing briefly on the walkway to take in his first breath of fresh air in three and a half months. He relished this moment…the breeze in his hair, the warmth of the Nevada sun on his cheeks, the lack of walls and boundaries…

A car honked rudely, shaking him out of his reflection. He turned his head, squinting curiously at the dark blue SUV waiting at the end of the front row of cars. Greg all but ran at it, barely turning the corner enough to cling to the passenger door. He threw it open, eyes full of hope.

"Warrick?"

Greg's smile faded a little, it was Grissom sitting in the driver's seat of the car. The older man smiled, looking quite wise in is eyeglasses and straw hat (does that not bug anyone else? Excuse the pun.) The brunette climbed in, throwing his bag at his fact and shutting the door. Grissom started up the SUV, carefully pulling out of the parking lot.

It wasn't until they were in the road that someone spoke.

"How was your stay?" Gil inquired.

"Painful, but effective" Greg gave him a weak smile "I'm almost done, almost healed, but I still feel like something's missing."

"You'll figure it out" Grissom assured him logically "You look much better, you've got your color back."

Greg flushed cutely, "Thanks…so…how's Archie?"

Grissom stiffened at those words, "He misses you, I'm sure."

Greg's flush darkened, "I meant your relationship."

"I'm not good at keeping secrets I have no intention of hiding" the older man smiled, eyes on the road "…we're doing fine, thank you."

"And…how's Warrick?"

Grissom's eyes flickered over to the younger man, "You'll see for yourself when you get home."

"Yeah" Greg sighed wistfully, staring out the window "…home…sounds good…"

»*»

Warrick's trip through sobriety was less clinical, more a battle of will. Grissom had given him a choice, go to a clinic like Greg or try to quit cold-turkey. He had tried to get into the clinic with Greg, but Gil had put a firm stop to that and told him that they needed isolation. Even though Greg had pleaded that they solve their problems together, they both knew they needed time away from everything.

Four months, that's all they got.

So Warrick had taken the cold-turkey route, and Grissom had signed him up to go see psychiatrist every Wednesday, Saturday, and Monday. The doctor had helped him monitor his food intake, Tylenol/aspirin usage, alcohol consumption, anything that would make him relapse. Dr. Palin, the woman was a God-send, was understanding and had even commented how cute Greg was (he had his driver's license, hell, he had Greg's whole wallet while he was put away.)

So Dr. Palin had kept him on track, but that didn't mean he came home every night to an empty bed. Sometimes he would pass out on the couch, just so he didn't miss Greg too much. His only saving grace was that a month and a half in he got to stay with Greg for a few days, if not just to help him get through the second psychotic break.

It was incredibly painful, watching the one man he loved dearly screaming for relief from his pain. And Warrick could do nothing to help him other than to hold him and try and comfort him with physical contact. It had helped after so long, and then they had all but thrown him out. It had ripped his heart to shreds to see Greg's eyes water up when he told him he had to leave, and he had gone straight to Dr. Palin after that.

But soon he could stay awake during the day, he was on top of things. He went down to the shelter and helped out, and he could keep up mentally and physically. Those kids ran him ragged, and he was always pretty exhausted when he finally got home. Yet he always had trouble falling asleep, even after weeks off the meds. He had asked Dr. Palin about it, and she had suggested that it was just his yearning to be with Greg again that made sleep difficult.

It had made sense, cause he missed Greg something terrible.

Right now, in the present, Warrick was visiting his old neighborhood much to the delight of his old neighbors. He knew Greg would come home soon, but he wasn't sure when exactly it would be. He knew he should head home, but he also knew Greg would need some time alone to get settled.

Then, and only then, would he speed home.

»*»

Greg opened the door with his key, slipping inside and eagerly looking around. He sighed sadly at the lack of his lover's presence, but decided he needed a shower.

Half an hour and gallons of hot water later, he was standing in front of the bathroom sink toweling off is hair. Greg sighed at his reflection, but couldn't help but smile. He took a step back, securing the towel on his hips and tossing the other aside. He surveyed himself carefully, taking notes, but decided overall he was pretty happy with his body.

His color was back for sure. His skin even had a tan sheen, from days in the solarium he supposed, and he didn't have bags under his eyes. He had some meat on his bones now, his muscles more well-defined…his thighs looked amazing! All that damn physical therapy, he was stronger now. He smiled wider at himself, flashing all his teeth. His hair was getting longer, not by much…but in a month or so he wouldn't be able to spike it up properly anymore.

And his eyes…they were brighter now.

The front door opened and shut, jolting him out of his thoughts. Greg yanked off the towel, taking the folded sweatpants off the toilet and slipped the pants (they were probably Warrick's) up around his hips, stumbling gracelessly the door. He made it to the center of the living room, then froze. Warrick was just inside the door, hanging up his coat and toeing off his shoes. The brunette's heart swelled with happiness, he couldn't help but let out a pleased sound.

Warrick turned at the noise, his own jade eyes going wide at the sight. A sight he hadn't seen for months…one that warmed him and made his eyes flutter. It was equal pants amazing and mind-boggling how this young man could make him feel like this. A piteous sound was ripped from the back of his throat, taking in the details of his boy…

"Greg…" Warrick smiled, speaking softly as if afraid if he spoke too loudly it would break the spell over the apartment "You look amazing, babe."

Greg snickered good-naturedly, "Four months of rehab will do that to you."

Warrick wanted to close the distance between them, but his lover beat him to it.

_**TBC**_


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Tainted Love (8/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: The boys get their time together after four months apart.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: H/C, fluff, short smut, AU (I'm manipulating time), slash

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 2790

AN:

I was going to write a full lemon, really, but then I realized I had already written my limit of smut on my 'Secret Fetish Trilogy' If you want smut, go there…seriously…damn…Also, I understand that there are a lot of sleeping/just waking up scenes, but I only planned like three and they all just happen to go in a line.

_***Oh…tainted love**_

_**Tainted love***_

Greg ran at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hugging him for all he was worth. He nearly moaned at their first contact, relishing the way the man's own strong arms encircled his waist and held him tight against him. He tried to bury himself into those muscles, into that warmth.

"Oh Greg…" Warrick sighed, inhaling that sweet coconut scent that always clung to his boyfriend's hair and skin "It's been hell without you, G.""I missed you so much" Greg murmured, pulling back but keeping his hands rested on his shoulders "How's your recovery been?""I'm better now, I'm over the withdraw and I'm keeping everything down. I've got my energy back, I got my game back" Warrick playfully brushed their noses, then his voice turned serious "And you, babe? How have you held up?""Good, I think I'm better now" Greg knew it wasn't the complete truth, but it wasn't a lie either. He still felt like something was missing, something vital, but the touch of his lover was numbing him to it.

"I can't get over how good you look" Warrick looked him over again "How _healthy_."

"I feel healthy" Greg admitted, shrugging "But I'm still glad that Grissom found a replacement for me. Now I can go into the field with you guys, right?"

"Yeah, of course" Warrick touched his cheek lightly, then slipped out of his arms "I'm sorry, baby, I'm starving…those kids at the shelter wear me the hell out!"

Warrick went to the fridge, throwing open the door and bending inside to rifle through it. Greg stared after him contemplatively, something slowly clicking in his brilliant mind. He admired the lean form of the man, realizing for the first time it had been almost five months since they started this relationship. And they had never been intimate, never once had they gone past heatedly devouring each other against the door or lazily making out on the couch. Once Warrick had gotten so worked up that he had tried to go down on him, but it was only a week and a half after Nick had left and Greg had freaked out completely.

//Oh God// Greg groaned mentally, mouth watering as he ogled the man's firm ass //What I wouldn't give to have his mouth on me now…//

That's it! Greg epiphany-d right there in the living room. _That's_ what was missing. The physical part of their relationship, the intimacy, the feel of his boyfriend's thick cock in his ass. It was something Nick had forced on him, something that had been pale in his previous partners. Girls weren't any fun, they were too soft. And the farthest he had ever gotten with a guy was…*blush* Well, there was no penetration, but he didn't like to think about the fumbling attempt at sex only to back out at the last second.

But he knew Warrick would be different, it would be miraculous and hot and lust-filled and hopefully mind-blowing…but an undertone of love with every touch, every kiss, every ground out word. And that's what he needed, and he needed it now.

"Warrick…'Rick, my dearest" Greg purred, approaching the man and running a hand subtly over his pants "The wind that blows back my hair, the song in my heart, the melody on my lips, the rhythm in my pants…"

"What are you up to?" Warrick stood, shutting the door and leaning into it.

"Nothing…and everything" Greg pressed into him, brushing their hips "I'm up to you, 'Rick.""G, babe" Warrick's voice grew husky, one possessive hand drifting up to rest in the curve of his back "Do you even know what you do to me?"

"Yes" Greg growled, pinning him completely against the fridge "Cause you do it to me."Warrick dipped down, claiming the brunette's lips with his own. It was a harsh encounter, teeth clacking and tongue's dancing together. It was raw need, their nerves exposed by the long time apart. Greg moaned, wrapping his arms tightly around the man and all but raping his mouth. There was nothing chaste about it, they were both too wanton.

"If you start this, I'll finish it" Warrick's voice was akin to a growl, foreheads pressed.

"Shut up, Brown" Greg tugged the man hard by the collar of his shirt, pulling him out of the kitchen towards the bedroom "I want you to fuck me, and I don't want to wait. We've waited long enough, don't you think?"

Greg manhandled his lover into the bedroom, the door wide open as they began to strip. It had to have been the clumsiest strip in history, since they were connected at the mouth most of the time and the other half they were caressing all over. It wasn't long until they had each other stripped completely, staggering backwards until Warrick all but threw the slighter man on the bed.

"This is what we need" Greg grinned broadly, sitting up on his elbows and raking his eyes over the darker man "Fuck, 'Rick…you're built like a fuckin' tree, you know that?"

Warrick grinned back, "And you've got a dirty mouth when you're horny, babe."

Warrick had to take a moment and admire his boy finally spread out for him. He crawled on the bed, making sure to keep their skin from meeting. He hovered, trailing his fingertips along the new bulges in his triceps…he was no longer wiry, but defined…it was turning him on, too.

Their touches were languid at first, kisses heated but controlled. Hands roamed over each other without shame, skin stretching taunt and moans falling from their mouths. Warrick took his time prepping his boy, refusing to give him a reason to experience any pain. Greg received each digit with a shudder and a sigh, loving being…loved. It was gentle, lips at his throat and whispering sweet nothings, free hand stroking his cock, firm body against his.

And when Warrick finally slipped inside him, he had to shut his eyes and howl. Never had he felt so complete, so loved, so…right. He wasn't being used like a whore, he was being loved because he was _him_ and that's all Warrick wanted from him.

"No, angel" Warrick pleaded huskily, his thrusts measured and sure as he held the boy's long legs high on his waist "Don't look away…let me see you, see your pleasure."

Greg's eyes fluttered open, glassy with pleasure, "Promise you won't hurt me?"

It was a breathy plea, pitiable.

"Never" Warrick assured him firmly, dropping a kiss on those petal lips "I won't hurt you…not as long as I breath, angel…"

" 'Rick…" Greg whined tearfully, cheeks wet.

Warrick almost slowed, "Am I hurting-?"

"_Gods_, no" Greg locked his ankles behind the man's back, pressing him closer "You'll never know…I'm just…_fuck_ me, 'Rick, I can't take the pain anymore."

Warrick knew that desperation, and complied to his lover's command.

They lay together afterwards, slick and sated. Warrick plopped down on his stomach beside his lover, arms crossed and supporting his cheek as he tried to regain his breathing. Greg was still mewling, shifting lazily on top of the covers. It was a full five minutes before Warrick reached over and yanked the sheet off the bed, wiping them clean and tossing it off the side of the bed.

"Lazy" Greg groaned, but he was smiling "…you see, that's what sex is supposed to be.""Nah" Warrick grabbed his hand, bringing it up to his face and bussing a kiss across his knuckles.

Greg's brow creased, "Then…what was it?"

"I don't mean to get all sappy on you, G" Warrick forewarned, those long fingers curling around his "But that's what _making love_ is…when your heart's in it."

Greg's beautiful sable eyes teared up, but he bit it back with a sweet smile. Their eyes were drawn to their clasped hands, showing off the stark contrast of their skin. Greg laced their fingers with a sigh, the moment dragging on between them.

" 'Rick…can I tell you something?" Greg's voice was quiet in the semi-darkness.

Warrick nodded against the pillow, "Anything, Greg, you know that."

"I…" Greg's voice filled with shame "There's something I told Dr. Dansen, something I should have told you first. But I could never work up the nerve…he said the guilt, the shame, would go away if I just let it out. So…here goes…"

Greg saw the tenseness enter his lover's shoulders, he had his full attention.

"When I was with Nick…late at night, when he had me tied up or pinned down or just drunk, my mind would always go to you" Greg admitted, scarce tears escaping his firm hold "When he was fucking me, he wanted to make me want it. Another way to control me, I guess. I recoiled at his touch, everything he did made me want to puke. He would get violent if I wasn't hard, one time he beat me so bad my vision went green for awhile."

Warrick let only one word escape, "_Bastard_."

"So I…" Greg cleared his throat softly "So I started thinking of you, of this. How it would be if it were you, less violent and more bliss. I used to get off so fast…I thought it was just some weird lust or a fantasy gone wrong. Then those feelings developed, and before I knew it I was head over heels for you. Nick knew before I did, before I even thought of it, my actions were subconscious. He only kept me around to keep me away from you, it was never about me…he just didn't want competition. His fears were confirmed when I accidentally called your name once…Nick dislocated my shoulder for that."

Warrick smiled weakly, "I knew it wasn't a surfing accident."

"I know you did" Greg tightened his grip on his hand "And that's why I loved you…_love_ you. And for awhile I hated you for it, I thought he would beat me because I wasn't you. Maybe he did, maybe he was just angry or sick, but…I hated you for it."Warrick squeezed back, "I'm sorry-"

"_No_" Greg stated firmly "Don't. I realized it wasn't you or me, it was just him. Do you forgive me? For feeling like that?"

"Oh baby…" Warrick leaned in, bussing their lips before brushing their noses sweetly "You know I do. We've both felt some terrible things…the truth?"

Greg nodded hesitantly.

"I…" Warrick wasn't sure how to say this, so he let it out "I was considering going out with Nick a few times. He was just so damn persuasive, and I was on the rebound."

Greg didn't seem to be bothered by this, "So what changed?"

Warrick couldn't lie, "That look on your face after you saw us together. I knew then that it was wrong, that he wasn't good for me. But, maybe…maybe _you_ were."

Greg smiled shyly at this, the flush on his cheeks more innocent, "Maybe I am."

Warrick nipped his lover's sweet lower lip, "You _are_."

»*»

Warrick sat in the chair by the window, gazing outside. The city's lights were fading as the sky tinged light blue on the horizon, then violet, slowly growing warmer. The bedroom was rather quiet, nothing loud enough to wake the sleeping occupant. The ceiling fan whirred above head, the air conditioner in the living room hummed vaguely, and soft snores echoed between the sheets of the bed.

Warrick was feeling good…about _everything._ His job, his life, his friends, his lover…it was all finally on track. He chewed softly at a square of cherry gum, something he had found a pack of laying in the top drawer of the dresser. It was Greg's, but the boy wouldn't mind. Usually in this type of scene, the big hero would be smoking or taking a pull of whiskey.

Greg didn't like licking ashtrays, and it was way too early to drink.

Warrick sat back in the chair with a wide grin, blowing a muted bubble before expertly sucking it back in. The pop would have been loud enough to wake Greg, and the boy deserved his sleep. Cause _that_ was the best sex he had ever had, hands down. For once his mind and body were in sync, both wanting his lover instead of bickering with each other over morals and 'later on's.

He was looking forward to 'later on', maybe some Blue Hawaiian coffee and those blueberry muffins he had just bought…the ones stuffed so precariously in the cabinet. He blew another bubble, feeling childish and loving it. Life was just so fuckin' good!

Sober and sex…with Greg…_spectacular_…

Warrick stood from his seat after the flavor had finally run out of his candy. He spit it out in the mini-trashcan, then stood by the bed. He ran his eyes over the form in his bed…_their_ bed. Greg was on his side, one hand curled up by his mouth (like he was ready to start sucking his thumb, or something) and the other was twisted in the sheet.

So cute…

Warrick slid in behind him, resting a hand in the dip of his back.

"Wondered when you would come back to bed" Greg murmured, pressing back into the man and fitting them perfectly "Can't sleep without you here, 'Rick."

Warrick nuzzled into the warm neck, "I can't sleep without you either, babe."

»*»

**~One Week Later~**

Their alarm clock went off at eleven exactly, for the first time in four months. The annoying buzz echoed throughout the apartment for a full minute before Warrick untangled himself from his lover long enough to reach behind him and smack it off. He was just about to settle back into his warm lover when soft lips brushed is jaw, a hand on his chest, and words were whispered to him…

"Come on, 'Rick…we've got work today."

Groaning in defeat, Warrick rose from their bed and hobbled off to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he managed to start the shower and get in without burning himself. Greg, on the other hand, succeeded in waking up enough to start the coffee. The rich aroma soon filled the air, stirring his senses and causing him to drool. When it was ready, he brought down two mugs and set them on the counter. One was green with the words "Happy Card Counting" scrawled on one side and a pair of handcuffs on the other. The other was black, a picture of Jack Skellington looking drowsy on one side and the words "The Nightmare Before Christmas Work" printed beside it.

Greg was about to fill the mugs when damp hands skidded down his arms, warm breath bathing is neck.

"Shower's yours, babe" Warrick grinned at the man's frustrated grown "I'll keep your coffee warm."

"If there's not some when I get back…" Greg threatened, those hands turning him around and full lips brushing his forehead "…I'll shank you."

Warrick sent him off with a pat to his ass, "I know."

A half-hour later, Greg and Warrick were both at the kitchen table eating toast and muffins while guzzling down the pot of coffee. The paper was spread out on the table, Warrick's eyes glanced over it for anything that would have to do with the CSI unit.

" 'Rick…" Greg caught the man's attention "Am I…am I a full-time field agent now?"

"Not yet" Warrick didn't lie "You may have to spend a few more shifts in the lab, but Grissom and I will be taking you out on most of our cases until then. Do you have a problem with that? Would you rather have Catherine?"

"No" Greg smiled to himself "Grissom's good…and Archie loves him a lot."Warrick scoffed, "Those two are a wonder…I never saw it coming."Greg stood, pulling out his lover's chair far enough so that he could straddle hi lap. He dipped down, brushing their lips chastely.

"No…" Greg sighed, foreheads pressed "You never _do see it coming."_

_**TBC**_


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Tainted Love (9/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: The boys go back to work, but Greg feels like there's still something missing. As usual, Grissom has a solution.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: Fluff, character analysis, dating, voyeur kink, slight D/s mentions, making out in wrong places

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 3343

**_*Don't touch me please_**

**_I cannot stand the way you tease_**

**_I love you though you hurt me so*_**

**~Two Weeks Later~**

It was a lazy night in the lab. Greg sat back in his chair, glancing about the break room before curling his fingers around his coffee and bringing it to his lips. He sighed contently, taking a moment for himself. His eyes drifted shut, his mind wandering.

Three weeks out of rehab….three weeks of coming home to Warrick every night without worrying about pills and dosages or whether he could keep his food down. It was hard to think that just half a year ago he was trapped in an abusive relationship, and just weeks after that curdled in his own personal hell. Three weeks ago he had been isolated from the only man he ever loved, all for the sake of his help.

//Negative thoughts// Greg scolded himself, taking another pull of coffee.

On a positive note, he was almost done with his proficiency exams. This time next year he would be a full-time field agent, CSI Level One, maybe sooner. Warrick had taken him under his wing, and didn't let anyone but Grissom and himself take him out. That is, until the older man had sat him down and demanded he share Greg with Sara and Catherine. But Greg was still too new to be paired with the CSI transferred up from Miami, Tim Speedle, too new and the man was a grouch.

Word out on him was that he had gotten in trouble in Miami, he had disregarded his boss's order and gone out to a jewelry store alone. Bad news, men were waiting there with guns and he had taken a round to his chest, leg, and shoulder. Hell, his should was still sported a brace, and you could see it if you looked hard enough under his shirt.

His boss and lover, Horatio Caine. The man had appeared one day at the lab, smooth voiced and looking sleek in his suit and shades. Grissom and the lieutenant were friends from way back, and Horatio was calling in a favor. That's when the red head had dragged the scruffy Trace Analyst in by his collar, his arm had still been in a sling then. The sight was pathetic for sure…then Horatio had informed Gil that he would be taking in his boy for a few months to straighten him out. Speed had pleaded with his lover…

"_Horatio, please, I don't-"_

"_You'll be staying here for quite some time, Speed."_

"_H, love, if you cared about me at all you won't send me away…"_

"_I'll be calling soon, you've got an apartment rented at this address."_

"_HORATIO!!"_

But then the man had walked away, clearly angered and still upset. Speed had collapsed against a wall, on the verge of some sort of panic attack. But he had dignity, he had straightened and calmly stated that he would like to work as a field agent for the next month or two. After handing over his credentials, Gil had agreed without much more coaxing.

After all, it was for his own good. And speak of the devil…

Speed walked in, looking as haggard as usual as he walked over to the coffee machine. He practically guzzled down his first cup, and was going for a second when he spotted the younger man. Embarrassed, he sipped his second coffee slower.

"How have you been getting along, Speed?" Greg questioned, he had decided quickly to befriend the man since they hadn't been properly introduced.

"Well enough" Speed glanced at the door "…maybe a little lonely."

"That's to be expected" Greg took a sip of his own beverage "I'm sure Horatio will let you come home any day now."

"Maybe" Speed grumbled, glaring at the ground "He could at least shipped me off to New York, at least then I'd have Danny there with me…"Warrick walked in at that moment, the Trace Analyst looked between the two hesitantly before leaving.

" 'Rick, I've been thinking again" Greg commented off-handedly.

Warrick stopped before he reached the coffee maker, "Oh no."

"I think we may have jumped into this relationship" those words caused Warrick to tense all over, and the younger man had to hurry to get there before the hurt "I mean, we never got to date. I just kind of…moved in with you so you could take care of me."

"So, what you're saying…" Warrick turned back to him, eyebrow cocked "You want to date?"

"Basically."

Warrick looked at his love in vague surprise, "What's the worse that could happen?"

Greg nearly dropped his mug, "You…don't care?"

"Nah. 'Sides, it'll be fun" Warrick grinned wickedly "And this time around, I'll be able seduce you properly."

Greg swallowed thickly, lust churning in his gut.

What kind of sexual bind he had gotten himself into?

»*»

The restaurant was gorgeous. It was large, roomy, homey even…but no less large and mood-lit. There wasn't a big crowd, and there wasn't a single light above any of the booths. All the light was focused on the man staying where a blues band cooed out a slow tune. It was a place for high-class secret lovers, liaisons, trysts…but needed a money, so it kept out the filth.

One couple in particular consisted of an older gentleman and a much younger man, but they look so _right_ together. They had a booth towards the far wall, but not the corner booth because that was reserved. They spoke quietly about past food encounters, how Miami's food differed greatly, how great the seafood was there after you had surfed on the very sea the shrimp had come from, what conventions they wanted to visit this year, and of course…insects.

Archie stopped mid-word, touching his supervisor's arm and gesturing toward the door. Another couple just walked in, and it made the older man smile. Gil took his lover's hand, running his thumb over his knuckles in an affectionate gesture. Curious sable eyes locked with his own, but the unease in them melted away.

"Hush now, love" Gil cooed, raising his wine glass to the dark skinned man and his slighter lover that passed them to the corner booth "We're only here for moral support."

"_Why_?" Archie whined, but his heart wasn't really in it "They lived -are living- together…for months! They're _fine_, Gil, they don't need us hovering around."

"My love, you don't understand Warrick" the older man spoke off-handedly, but it nearly stung him "Warrick is a mass of nerves over this. Greg has scared him with this request…he hasn't wooed very many men. They came together by unfortunate circumstances, and now they're free to be happy. Warrick's unsure if Greg will love him just as much now that he's healed."

"That's irrational" Archie spouted immediately, then paused and squeezed his lover's hand back "But…I guess it's not complete unnatural. Dude, do you really think Greg feels that way?"

"Don't call me _dude_, Archie" Grissom took a sip of wine "And no…I don't."

In the shaded corner booth, Greg peered around at his surroundings.

"It's beautiful, 'Rick" Greg breathed, catching a flash of grin at a breath "Huh…is that Grissom?"

"Baby, you're seeing things" Warrick pulled him farther into the booth, reveling in the way the boy melted into the leather seat "Do you like it? If you don't like it here, you can chose-"

"No, it's perfect" Greg flash him a shy smile "If I say I'm nervous, would you make fun of me?"

"No" Warrick replied truthfully, brushing a kiss across the brunette's cheek "Relax. It's _me_ you're with, and this is a post-date. We're not trying to impress each other, we're just here…hungry and happy."

"Yeah" all his tension flooded away at that, and at that moment a waiter came up and offered them a wine and food menu "Thank you."

They settled into an easy conversation about their recent case, carefully looking over the menus. To be truthful, they both ignored the wine list because neither knew enough to tell good from bad.

"Oh dear" Grissom rolled his eyes at their antics, Archie's brow creased at this "They don't know what wine to order."

"Silly amatéurs" Archie huffed, mock indignant as he waved over a waiter. He whispered quickly into the young man's ear, who nodded and scurried off.

Grissom raised a brow, "What did you order?"

"What you ordered on our first date" Archie replied, dark eyes flashing in barely contained passion "What you later drank off me as I begged to be taken."

"Ah" Grissom grinned, his cock giving a heavy twitch of interest at the memory "Chilled Xanadu."

Once their food was ordered, Greg settled himself in for a calm questioning.

"Let's get the clichés out of the way" the younger CSI began "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue" Warrick though on it a second longer "Navy blue."

"I'm glad" Greg smiled "You look your sexiest in your navy blue shirt."

Warrick grinned knowingly, "I think I know your favorite color. It's…green, right?"

Greg stared into those dark jade eyes his lover possessed "Yeah…dark green."

"Knew it, I'm good" Warrick thought hard on a question "You know, you never told me while you didn't tell your parents about your switch from lab to field?"

"Oh" Greg blushed a little in the mood lighting "I don't know…it's just…my mom didn't have any other children besides me. She was always so protective of me, she didn't want me playing sports and she wanted me in the house at all times. Dad, not so much."

"Gentlemen?"

They both looked up, the waiter standing there with a chilled bottle of wine in a cloth.

"From the gentleman across the way" the small man smiled "He asks me tot ell you to drink well, and soothe your nerves."

Greg's brow creased, "But who-?"

"Thank you" Warrick gestured "Would you…?"

"Of course, good sir" the waiter poured them both a generous amount into their present wine glasses. The color was dark, and it seemed to catch every ray from the jazz band's spotlight and reflected it back at them. With a slight bow, the waiter set the bottle in the middle of the table within their reach and left.

"To us" Warrick cleverly distracted his lover with a kiss to the soft skin below his ear "To you, for such a brilliant idea, babe."

"Oh" Greg flushed darkly, but he loved it "Sweet talker."

Warrick pulled back, raising his wine glass, "To us?"

"Us' Greg took his glass into his hand, touching it to his lover's. They both took a drink, the younger man moaned at the taste. It was rich, heady on his tongue, but chilled his throat and lulled his nerves. His lover gave him a heated look, and he couldn't help but bite his lip and drop his eyes.

"You know, G, I was a complete geek in high school" Warrick admitted, setting the glass on the table and tracing its base "Got picked on a bit, but it didn't faze me. I spent a lot of time at the shelter, holed up with a book. What did you do to fill your time?"

"I was on the chess team" Greg replied, gesturing to himself "Captain, two years running.""Cool" Warrick could just picture a long-limbed, dyed hair Greg beating his own lanky self in high school "You could probably whoop me at it then."

"Maybe" Greg's smile was secretive, he took a sip of his wine "But you definitely have the upper hand at the piano."

Warrick blushed darkly, his lover had caught him quite a few times playing in the late hours of the afternoon, "Maybe."

"Do you think…?" Greg chewed his lower lip "Do you have the patience…to maybe…teach me a little?"

The dark man rose a brow at the question, "You want to learn the piano?""Unless you don't want to" the CSI trainee tried not to deflate "I know I can be pretty difficult student."

"Just the opposite, G" Warrick chuckled, brushing their hands on the table "You're a quick study, your taking to your CSI training faster than I did. I'll teach you piano…if you give me a few chess lessons."

"You're on" they touched glasses gain, each taking a long pull.

Their food came, and more wine was poured into their glasses. They discussed deeper issues,, things they wouldn't touch on with anyone else. The time the lab blew up and left scars on Greg's back, Warrick's gambling issues and how they started. Warrick's first few cases, his first autopsy, his rocky start with Nick. At the mention of Nick, Greg slowly admitted how he had gotten into the abusive relationship to begin with. It had involved alcohol, of course, and an oppressive loneliness.

Before they knew it, the bottle was now empty and they were feeling it's warm effects…even with empty plates.

Grissom watched their exchange, amused. His hand was on his lover's thigh caressing along the line of his newest pair of jeans. It seemed the wine was getting to Warrick's head, and he was getting a little handsy too. Grissom was completely content to watch the couple make-out in public (damn you, voyeur kink!), until his own lover mewled and rolled his hips. The older man looked over, grinning when he saw the lust in those dark eyes he loved so much.

"We should send them home, sweetling" Gil dipped his head, licking and nibbling the strong line of his lover's neck "I don't think Greg would be too fond of getting fucked in public. Unlike you."

"Gil" Archie rasped, curling his fingers in grey tinged hair "Unless you plan to fuck me here in this booth, we should _all_ go home."

"Fair enough" Gil pulled away completely, a whine came from the younger man as he caught a waiter's attention and gestured him over "The check, if you please?"

"Sir" the waiter nodded at one of their honored guests, disappearing only for two minutes before returning "Will you sign it off, Dr. Grissom?"

"Yes, thank you" Grissom signed the slip of paper, handing it back to the man "And my patrons over there, they are mine as well. You'll put it all on my tab, I surmise?"

"Of course, sir, I'll inform the manager" the waiter noted the way Archie was plastering himself against the older man's side "Enjoy your night, Dr. Grissom."

"I believe I will" Gil's grin was predatory, he got out of the booth and pulled the lab tech to his feet by the back of the neck "Come along, sweetling."

The couple made their way to the corner booth, Archie only managed to behave himself as his lover's hand moved from his neck to the curve of his lower back.

"Warrick" Grissom's voice was commanding, it caused the black man to pull away from Greg's ear. The lovers were flushed with passion, eyes dilated and ready to go right there in the booth. "I believe it's time we all head home. I don't think you want Greg's lovely mouth subject to a jail cell for indecent exposure, do you Warrick?"

"Right" Warrick seized his lover by his waist and pulled him to his seat, holding him to his side in a mirror image of the couple before them "I…don't think I can drive."

"I took care of it, come with me" Grissom took his lover by the arm, leading them out of the restaurant as the other patrons applauded the band.

"I knew they were here" Greg pouted as they stepped into the tepid night air "You double-dated on me."

"Only because I love you" Warrick followed his supervisor to a dark SUV in the parking lot, a dark haired man about Greg's age in the front "What's Speedle doing here?"

"He's trustworthy, sober" Gil manhandled his lover into the SUV, grinning like the Cheshire Cat "He knows about all of us…and if he's good, he gets to go home to his lover sooner than expected."

" 'Rick" Greg was purring as Warrick eased into the car, pulling him up into his lap. The younger man rolled his hips into the man, bringing their foreheads together as the wine went straight to their heads. The SUV started up, driving off into the Nevada night. Grissom didn't feel like waiting until they were at home, not with his lover rubbing against him sensuously and that hot mouth was on the side of his neck.

With a growl, he pinned Archie to the car door and took his lips.

As Warrick nibbled ad sucked a path down his neck and worked on the first few buttons of his shirt, Greg realized what they were doing. They were making out in a vehicle he had never seen before driven by a CSI he had just met a few months ago. But Speed wasn't paying attention, his eyes were locked on the road an he had his MP3 in his ears with the vague sound of "Rhythm of the Night" pumping forth.

Greg's heart skipped a beat and a half at the sight of the other lovers, he laced his hand in his boyfriend's hair and made him look too.

Archie was pinned against he heavy door, one hand pinned on the tinted glass and the other tucked behind his back…immobile. Grissom was on his knees on the seat, the Asian's long legs wrapped around his waist and one hand up his shirt to trace his nipple. Archie moaned, eyes screwed shut as his lover left a hicky at the base of his neck. When the fingers on his nipple twisted particularly roughly, his eyes blinked open as a pitiable whimper escaped his lips.

Greg met the lab tech's dark eyes, and those lips twisted into a grin. Warrick missed this, he was murmuring dirty things in his ear and letting his hand skim up the slighter man's back. Archie blatantly rolled his hips, earning a growl from Grissom as the hand up his shirt left angry red crimson streaks followed blunt nails from his pec to his belly button.

It was a challenge, Greg accepted.

Greg gave his love one last kiss, then pushed him pushed him completely back on the seat. He trailed his lips and tongue teasingly from his ear to his neck, giving him just a hint of teeth at his collarbone. While ripping open the buttons on his lover's shirt, the CSI trainee kept his lover's hips and mouth busy. Once all that dark, luscious skin was exposed to him, he began to nip and lick at the hardening nipples.

Speed paused his MP3, stopping in front of the townhouse, "Grissom, you've arrived.""Thank you, Tim, you did very well" Grissom didn't even bother fixing his lover's clothing before pushing him out of the SUV "Horatio will be receiving my call within the week."

Speed smiled, pressing play on his music device.

"You two" Gil smirked at the pre-debauched pair in the car "I hope we can try this 'double-dating' again soon. I hope you enjoy the effects of the wine as much as we did."

Shutting the door, the vehicle took off.

"_Gil_."

Grissom dragged his flushed and aroused lover into their townhouse, immediately slamming the door and pushing him up against it. Archie made a sound in the back of his throat, but only latched onto his lover.

They wouldn't even going to make it to the bedroom this time…and they had a feeling the others wouldn't either.

_**TBC**_


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Tainted Love (10/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: Greg's a man, and someone's moving in on Grissom and Warrick's turf.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: All around slash, relapse, hero-Hodges

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J Klesla is yet another hockey player from my favorite team, and I love him 3

Word Count: 1980

AN: I wanted a ficlet where someone moves in on Greg, and this seemed the perfect place to put it.

_***Now I'm going to pack my things and go**_

_**Tainted love, tainted love**_

_**Tainted love, tainted love***_

**~One Year Later~**

Warrick came into the apartment, a large bag of Chinese take out in his hand. He bumped the door shut with his hip, jacket, keys, and shoes discarded at the door. He padded into the kitchen, throwing the containers on the table before shuffling back into the living room. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

_Pucca_, a cartoon ninja TV show, was playing lowly on the TV set. Greg was stretched languidly out on the couch, eyes closed in sleep. One hand was curled behind his head, the other rested on his stomach. He was barefoot, the only articles of clothing on him were a mangled pair of jeans and a 'Bullet for My Valentine' t-shirt with a faded design.

This was the old Greg he knew, the one that had captured his heart with a head bang and an air guitar. That spark -that fire- was now only glimpsed at time like this, at home and off-duty. Greg was officially a Level One CSI now, and he had a certain demeanor to uphold now. His personality wasn't dead, but he had calmed down for the sake of his job.

Those bright, loud shirts were still in their closet, but they now hung next to solid colored shirts and suit jackets. Jeans with gaping holes hung next to dress pants and dark blue Levi's.

But it wasn't uncommon to see him jamming out while making dinner or conducting a weird experiment in a spare lab…or writing to that novel of his…

His young Greg was now a man, no longer could he call him his 'boy.'

The best change, in Warrick's opinion, was the hair. No more dye, the smell drove him nuts. Greg's hair was now a soft chestnut with mild blonde highlights, and it was long. Those lovely curls brushed his ears and cheeks, laying gracefully across his forehead. It was just the perfect length, it softened his features and gave him an innocent air. Warrick loved nothing more tan to fist his hand in it, those curs clinging to and kissing his fingers.

So much better than spikes.

"You're staring" Greg purred, stretching a little before sitting up. He rubbed at his eyes, then blinked up at his lover and smiled. "I'm not complaining, but is something wrong?"

"Nah" Warrick leant against the doorframe "I'm just so damn lucky…and you're too cute."

"Oh, I know" Greg got up, sauntering over and bussing a kiss to his cheek "So are you, 'Rick."

Warrick watched intently as Greg rifled through the Chinese take-out, not for the first time worrying how Nick could have had the opportunity to love this man and threw it away. That incident seemed like a far off nightmare, too much time had passed. Neither secretly worried Nick would come back, not anymore. His heart swelled and love for this man, and a wave of possessiveness hit him.

God help the man who tried to take his Greg away from him.

"Hey, G, leave me some!"

»*»

Speedle had left he lab long ago, and was doing wonderfully in Miami again. Sometimes he and Greg would call, keeping tabs, exchanging favors and e-mails and funny videos. But where he left, the swing shift was left short staffed again. Thankfully, Commodore had been transferred, but that still left them a man down. Two months ago, Gil had fought Ecklie tooth and nail, but eventually someone was hired. Grissom was discontent, he didn't like the man, but he couldn't overpower Ecklie and a personal decision of his.

Junior staff had been put on rotation until a fit was found, and the new man was put as Bobby's assistant.

Rusty Klesla. A six-foot, dark haired, pretty boy with hockey-player muscles. He was a rather _okay_ assistant, but Grissom knew in his gut he'd be trouble. The an wasn't openly offensive or horribly evil, but he had a dark intent about him. Bobby, still harboring that secret guilt that he let Nick get away, didn't attempt to control the man at all. It wasn't uncommon to see the man hanging around the layout rooms, and even worse…the A/V lab.

Archie didn't much care for the man either.

One day he went too far.

»*»

Greg had just come in from the field, he was laying out his evidence on the bottom-lit layout table. He slipped off his CSI jacket for an informal lab coat, and it filled him with bittersweet memories. Idly scratching at his scarred shoulder, he began to work. One of the pieces of evidence was a shell, so he paged the Ballistics lab.

An hour later, he had the charred rope assembled near the corner of the bath and a row of swabs next to a sticky pair of leather gloves. He 'har-umphed' when he checked the clock, he supposed he would have to deliver the evidence himself. Whatever, the lab techs were busy, he got that. He took a moment to lean against the wall, briefly savoring his triumph over the rope that he thought be would impossible to reconstruct after so much arson-damage.

Greg grinned to himself dopily, "I'm good."

"Yes, you are."

The voice was low, riddled with hidden intentions. He opened his eyes curiously, finding Klesla standing there. He tensed all over, he had never liked the man. When Griss didn't trust them, Greg didn't trust them. The man's smirk was predatory, his dark eyes bottomless pits. Another time, with a better personality, Greg would have considered this man attractive. Maybe even flirted with him, just to have some fun.

Not now.

"I paged you an hour ago" Greg had no real conviction in his voice, he gestured to the bagged bullet on the table "Have Bobby run it through the system, maybe I'll get a bite."

"Maybe" Klesla made a move toward the evidence, just to _him_ "So are the rumors true?"

Greg's eyes narrowed, "_What_ rumors?"

Klesla's eyes lit up, "When you were a lab tech, you fucked on of the CSI's…then got moved up."

Greg flushed in righteous fury, he didn't give a damn if the tech was talking about Warrick or Nick, he still had no _right_!

"It _is_ true" Klesla got right in his personal space, a hand brushing his hip "Wanna try the reverse?"

Greg scowled, "If you don't-"

Rough lips descended on his, and for a horrid moment he had a relapse. Memories of Nick came pounding back, duller after so much time but no less real. For a helpless moment he was a DNA lab rat again, frozen against the wall and unable to protect himself. He had the ungodly urge to seek his meds again…

//No! No! Not again! I can't do it again!//

Before the strength could return to his limbs, a solid hand on Klesla's shoulders and pulled him away. The Ballistics tech was knocked flat on his ass, a solid figure blocking his way between himself and Sanders. Greg's savior glared heatedly at the man on the ground, arms crossed and baring his teeth. Klesla wilted under the look from _that_ man, then managed to stand on shaky legs. Greg was God-smacked, mouth open and tears in his eyes as he stared at the back of his knight in shining armor.

"I think you should leave, _Rusty_" Hodges spat the name like a venom "And if you can't find something to do, I'm sure Henry has toxic waste to be disposed of."

Klesla made a face, then scurried off.

"Hodges?" Greg nearly whimpered, the man turned and raised a brow at him "You just…you didn't have to…I can't believe you…"

"Tell Grissom."

Greg blinked away his tears, "_What_?"

David sighed, then replied patiently, "Wash out your mouth, puke if you have to, then _Go. Tell. Grissom._"

Greg shook his head weakly, "I can't, he'll-"

"Shut _up_, Sanders" David snapped, something soft flashing in his steely eyes "If it means something, I just saw you relapse. I haven't seen you so vulnerable since you were a lab rat, and I don't want to see it again. Understand me?"

Greg nodded, "…what would I say?"

"The truth" Hodges sighed exasperatedly, then gave him a small smile "He'll understand, trust me."

Greg got over his initial surprise and hugged the man, shocking them both.

"Sanders?"

"Yeah?"

"….you're touching me…"

"Sorry, man."

»*»

**~Next Night~**

Greg had to spend a day in Warrick's arms to gather up enough courage to tell Grissom. It was a guilty secret, and he waited until the lunch break to comfort him. It was slowly eating him away from the inside out, he was practically vibrating on his way to the man's office. He ran the last ten steps, burst in, then shut and locked the door.

"Don't say a word, Griss, just listen" Greg turned, rubbing a hand through his long-ish hair (why did he suddenly have the urge to cut it?) "If you interrupt, I don't think I'll be able to finish."

Gil cast a glance at the couch behind the man, but nodded silently.

"Klesla, that creepy ballistics guy, pretty much jumped me in the layout room" Greg began, his mouth moving fast "It wasn't really a 'jump', he just pinned me to the wall and kissed me. B-But I _freaked_, Gil. I had some weird/temporary relapse, my mind was flooded with nothing but…nothing but Nick a-and…if it wasn't for Hodges, I don't know…"

"Babe, are you ok?"

Greg jumped three feet in the air at that voice, he whipped around to see Warrick standing from the couch. Warrick enveloped his lover into his arms, kissing his hair and temple in the sweet way he knew the brunette loved. Greg sighed happily, pressing into the touch, then he sought the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry" Greg attempted to smile "I feel bad for not telling you, but I was pretty scared."

"I understand, don't worry about it" Warrick pulled the man close to him, but his eyes were locked with Grissom's "I want him gone, Gil."

Grissom couldn't help himself, he full-out grinned as he pulled a criminal record out of the desk drawer.

"This is enough to get him out of here, I've been collecting for awhile" Gil brandished it "Let's deliver this to Conrad personally, shall we?"

The other two nodded, pulling away. After a moment to gather their composers, the three left the room to go out along the hallway. They were halfway to Ecklie's office when Grissom froze, stopping dead in his tracks. The older man was growling, eyes ablaze. They followed his glare to the A/V lab window-wall, and inside it was the reason for his anger.

Klesla had obviously moved onto another target, if the hand gripping Archie's arm was any indication. From the look on Archie's face, he had more than a few choice words for the man. But Klesla wasn't taking 'no' for an answer, and he even leaned in for a kiss. Archie reeled back and punched him square in the jaw, darting out of the lab…he looked scared out of his mind…

"That's it!" Grissom snarled "The bastard's gone…damn Ecklie, Klesla's fired!"

_**TBC**_


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Tainted Love (11/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: The past comes back to haunt the boys.

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: character death, angst, violence

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 2195

_***Touch me baby, tainted love**_

_**Touch me baby, tainted love***_

Klesla was fired by the end of the week, sent packing with his tail between his legs. But of course, he couldn't leave without exposing a truth about Bobby. They all had been sad to see the Ballistics Expert go, but none of them could ever truly forgive him for letting Stokes get away. Greg had even hugged the man before he left, both whispering how sorry they were things had to turn out the way they did.

"_Why, Bobby?"_

"…_he had dirt on me you'd never believe, Greg. I owed him one last huge favor. I just prayed he wouldn' come back for me because of it. He coulda had me do a helluva lot worse than what I done."_

Greg had understood, he didn't wish to press charges and Jim honored the request.

They had hired a new girl already, a Southern bell who went by the name Rosaline Duquesne. Grissom had informed the team that she was a cousin of Calleigh Duquesne, who was an amazing success down in Miami. So they accepted her, albeit reluctantly. She couldn't have been more fiery, more cute. Unlike her cousin, her platinum blonde hair was cropped short and her eyes were a deep jade. Greg had immediately hit it off with her, and the team soon followed.

So now they no longer had to worry about Nick's influence, after a full year and a half. They couldn't be more free, more happy. Greg laughed easier, and Warrick wasn't a jealous buzz of nerves anymore. All threats were gone, and they were content to catching twisted criminals in Sin City. They didn't think a thing could go wrong…

…yeah, they were _that_ naïve.

»*»

Warrick jerked harshly, breath catching in his throat. His eyes sapped open, sweat sheening along his bare chest and forehead. He was panting, but he was safe at home…in his bed…with his over. Greg was curled along his side, nuzzled into shoulder and had one hand in the crook of the darker man's arm. Warrick looked around frantically, taking in their shared room. The thick, black curtains kept the afternoon sun out.

Warrick calmed, realizing he was safe…that _Greg_ was safe. The shift had been long, he was tired, he should be passed out right now. They were both bare and clean from their shared shower, and if he concentrated hard enough he could still taste his lover on his tongue…chocolate and Blue Hawaiian coffee.

So what had awoken him so suddenly?

_There_.

A movement, in the corner by the closet. He squinted in the muted light. But his eyes just wouldn't adjust, and he couldn't tell the outline of a figure from the length of the lamp. After two heart shuttering moments, Warrick sighed out hard and scowled.

He was being ridiculous, there was no one.

"Hey 'Rick."

That thick Texan drawl…one he hadn't heard in months. Wrath flooded through him, and he rolled out of bed. Warrick nearly growled, yanking on a spare set of boxer shorts on the floor. Had he truly come back? Did he dare show his fuckin' face again? Here? In his…_their_ home?!

And there the was.

Nick stepped out of the shadows like any good antagonist in any cheesy novel, a small smile on his face. Warrick expected him to look haggard, but he still looked good. He was well-fed, hi hair was cut perfectly, and he was clean shaven. His clothes were rumpled, but clear. He had his hands clasped behind his back in mock-innocence.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" Warrick growled, pulling his piece off the dresser and keeping it at his side.

"Oh 'Rick, don't be like that" Nick approached slowly, looking up at the man through his lashes.

"You better back off, Stokes" Warrick huffed when the man got closer. He was about to step away when Greg made a noise, distracting him. He looked over, watching as his lover vainly searched for him by groping at the sheets. Greg whined, but contentedly clutched Warrick's pillow and snuggled into it.

"Come _on,_ Warrick" Nick hooked his strong arms around the taller man's shoulders, lips hovering over the man's jaw "You can't say you didn't enjoy it at a time?"

Blurry, abstract memories flooded Warrick. A drunken weekend with Nick, the man's apartment, more beer…more beer…lips on his, his hands on lean hips…a wall, more beer, a bed…and then waking up on Monday with a heavy hangover…

"I don't remember that and you know it" Warrick hissed venomously "After what you fuckin' did to Greg, I should choke the life right out of you."

"You wouldn't. There was a time when you wanted me, Warrick, you can't deny it!" Nick shoved him away, voice raising and stirring Greg out of sleep "There was a time when _I_ was _all_ you needed! You can't _love_ Greg, not after I worked so hard!"

"Warrick?" Greg murmured, stretching on the bed before blinking up at the scene by the bed. Disbelieve chased concern across his face, followed by pure fear chasing disbelief again. "_Fuck_ no, not again, this can't be-"

"You think he _loves_ you?' Nick spat "He doesn't love you, you're just _new_."

"You're sick" Warrick advanced on the Southern man "I'm taking you in, Stokes, don't make me hurt you."

"You won't" Nick retorted, then his angry doe eyes fell on the man on the bed "But _you_, I'll fuckin' _kill _you!"

Nick lunged on Greg, covering the brunette's nude form over the sheets, and wrapping his calloused hands around his throat. Greg's eyes bugged, hands immediately flying up to enclose over the thick words. But it was to no avail, Nick clearly had the upper hand in strength and crazy (crazy was always good to have when fighting.) The younger man choked pitiably, then thrashed beneath the Southerner's grip. He made coarse sounds in the back of his throat, tears coming to his eyes as he desperately tried to take a breath. Those hands were too strong, too willed, he couldn't break free.

It seemed as if the room had captured the magic of lightening, a brief flash…a spark even…of light illuminated the two figures. A crack like the lowest bass note in a heavy metal rock song rang out, though multiplied and sharpened a dozen times. Greg wanted to close his eyes, really he did, but he frozen in place by the sudden assault on his senses. Nick went limp above him, dark eyes impossibly wide. The death-metal grip on his neck loosened gradually, he sucked in a breath of air like an addict after a week without gratification. As the spots disappeared from his vision, he realized Nick wasn't moving away. The man was gaping like a fish, a hand pressed to his heart and clenching tightly. He stared at Greg a moment longer, then fell towards the right of the younger CSI…his larger frame pinning the man down into the bed.

Warrick dropped the smoking gun from his trembling digits, rushing forward and pulling his squirming lover out from under the other man. Greg clung tightly to him, and they stumbled backwards into the wall. Greg stared wide-eyed at the scene, disbelief etched into every line of his face. A blossom of blood and cloth was sprouting out from Nick's back, right there between his spin and shoulder blade.

Pale, trembling digits clutched at a bare, dark shoulder, "R-Rick…?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Warrick chanted softly, arms wrapped securely around his lover.

Greg started shaking horribly, just when he realized Nick was dead on their bed. Nick was face-down in the sheets, the blood soaking the material like a dark crimson on a blank canvas. His fist was still pressed into the bed, clutching his heart.

"Oh God, 'Rick!" Greg shook his lover, fists gripping his shoulders almost painfully "You killed him! You _kiled_ him!" He buried his face in the man's chest, thick tears streaming down his face "They'll take you _away_, Warrick! They'll take you away from me for this!"

"Hush, hush" Warrick murmured sweetly, backing them up until his back hit the wall. They collapsed on the floor together, clinging onto one another and making small sounds of distress. Greg curled up on his lover's lap, face buried in his neck and whimpering about losing him. Warrick only clung to the slighter man, eyes fixated on the body on their bed.

Unaware to the, their neighbor was calling 911 about the noise in the apartment.

»*»

**Next Night**

Warrick left the precinct, Brass looking after him sadly. The black man made sure he was out of sight of the security cameras before pausing, putting a hand over his neck and rolling it. It had been a long day, Brass had kept him for his own safety. He hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone but Brass, on Grissom's orders, about Stokes' death. Thankfully, Brass had got him off on self-defense chargers, and Greg had been released much earlier than him.

He got to his car, fishing the keys out of his pocket and keeping his head bowed. When he looked up, he found his lover there. Greg was wearing a dark green hoody, the hood up over his hair and shadowing his face a little in the dim light of the parking lot. He had on a pair of jeans that were too big for him (and Warrick suspecting they were his own) and he had his hands shoved in his hoody. Greg looked up at him as well, nearly pouting he looked so sullen.

Warrick noted how much he looked like that scared little lab rat from so long ago.

"Greg" Warrick leaned up against the car beside him, looking him over "Babe, what are you doing here? You should be at home-"

"We can't go home" Greg's voice was hoarse, his eyes were still tinged red from all the crying he had done that day "It's blocked off as a crime scene. Catherine just finished up there, and she got the best cleaning crew to get rid of…get rid of the blood."

Warrick sighed, he had almost forgotten, "Where have you been all day?"

"With your Grandma" Greg smiled a little "Papa Olaf came by a visit, he sends his love."

Warrick smiled softly too, "How did they get along?"

"Oh, she adores him…he admires her" Greg chuckled, but it was a raw sound that made him wince "Papa Olaf has no idea how she raised a brat like you."

Warrick leant closer, their shoulders pressed now, "I bet we could bunk at Griss's for a while, he's got some room to spare-"

"I'm moving" Greg stated defensively.

Warrick looked like he had been sucker-punched, "What? You're moving out? You're leaving me because killed the man who-!"

"Stop!" Greg's voice was pleading, tearful "Don't! Just _don't_! I didn't mean that, I love you 'Rick. But…I can't live there anymore. Can we…can we move? Please?"

Greg's voice broke on the last word, he reached up and pulled the hood further down over his face as he bowed his head and began to cry, "I can't sleep in that bed again, not after that…I thought I was over this, but I'm not, Warrick. I'm scared, I'm sick with it…can we just find a new place together?"

Warrick took the slighter man into his arms, letting him bury his face into his shoulder and wrap his arms around his waist. Greg cried into his lover's shoulder, letting all his weight rest in the solidness of the man's body. Warrick held him easily, keeping him grounded with firm hands on his waist and in the middle of his back. This man, his Warrick, killed for him last night…he shot Nick straight in the back while the bastard was on top of him. All because he was too weak to defend himself, because he hadn't been able to breath…

"Shh, baby, shh" Warrick cooed "I'm not leaving you, you'll need a helluva lot more than this to get rid of me. I'm not being charged with anything, neither of you. If you want a move, we'll move, maybe…even…a house instead of an apartment."Greg choked out a laugh against his shoulder, gripping his lover tighter, "You d-don't have to say things just t-to make me feeling bet-_*hiccup*_-ter."

"No, babe, I'm not lying" Warrick pulled away, cupping the man's tear-slicked cheeks between his hands and looking him dead in the eye. We've got money stashed away, and I bet Griss would help us if we needed it. Unless you don't want to?"

"Please" Greg wrapped his arms around the man's neck, stealing a hot kiss before grinning "I want to live with you permanently."

_**TBC**_


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Tainted Love (12/12)

Author: Emono

Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas

Rating: NC-16

Pairing: Warrick/Greg (Grerrick), Grissom/Archie

Summary: Epilogue

Beta: gil_follower

Warnings: character-death, relapse, angst, spoilers for "For Gedda" and "For Warrick"

Disclaimer: CSI is guarded by the Card Soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, even if they ARE easy to beat in Kingdom Hearts J

Word Count: 724

AN:

If you read the last chapter and liked the ending, then don't read this. This is horrible and cruel, but hey- blame CSI, they did it. Song Greg sings: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

_***Tainted love, tainted love**_

_**Tainted love…***_

The air was cool for once, the sky cloudy with the threat of rain. Greg stood alone in the cemetery, eyes red and lips pursed. Everyone had left long ago, his car was the only one left at the gate. His suit was rumpled, tie discarded long ago along with his shoes and socks. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck and untucked.

He scowled at the tombstone, cursing it for mocking him.

"I hope your fuckin' happy" Greg spat, tears threatening to spill again "You got fixated again, just like I told you not to. You just had to piss off the mob, you had to go into that damn strip club. And…and you just had to cheat on me, to make it worse."

Greg reached up, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You fucked her, I know" Greg laughed bitterly "You tried to keep it from me, and I know it was a mistake. Maybe if you hadn't been clean…maybe if you were steal on all those meds you would have at least been too tired to do anything. And she didn't suffer too much, just so you know. I wouldn't have cared, 'Rick, I loved you damn it."

Greg dropped to his knees, letting his head hang back on his neck.

"I'm so tired of this…and now you're not here to ground me. I think Gil's worried…Archie's been staying with me, he's a good house-keeper. Oh God, the house…and Sam just paid that off for us too…"

Greg's head snapped up, mouth slack.

"I forgot to tell you" Greg smiled bitterly "Sam gave me an early birthday present…thanks to Catherine. He paid off our house, he's actually pretty nice for a cold-blooded killer. Surprise…I wanted to tell you over dinner, but now I guess…I guess I won't be able to…"

Greg trailed off, and started singing under his breath, '_the best of us can find happiness in misery_'

The wind picked up, brushing his neck and ruffling his hair. For one long moment he was sure he felt sure fingers curling in the strands at the bottom of neck…soft lips on his skin…and he swore, if only for a second, he felt his lover's firm chest pressed against his back in a warm embrace…

"I miss you already Warrick" Greg whimpered, curling over his knees and pressing his fists into the ground. He let the cool grass sooth his face, recalling earlier when they had laid it down over the freshly turned dirt. His lover was down there, his rock, his savior…the one who held him during the nightmares, who could take care of his body like no one else, who knew his quirks and emotions and loved him for it all.

//It's your own God-damn fault// Faux-Greg stood off to the side, staring down absently at a leaf on the ground //If you would have kept his satisfied and distracted he would have never went off with that whore.//

Greg stood up suddenly, resentment flooding through him. He fished a bottle out of his pocket, he unscrewed it and shook three into his palm.

Faux-Greg chuckled, //This is what you get for dragging him down. You ruin everything you touch, you should have just let Nick have him.//

"Oh shut up, will you?" Greg popped the pills into his mouth, turning to leave "Even if you're right…just shut the hell up for once."

_**De Fin**_

_**Emono:**_

_***bursts randomly into tears, throws fit* I hate, hate, HATE this ending!! Damn you, CSI, for killing Warrick!!! Now I had to! Grr, the cycle continues : (**_


End file.
